Blood Moon
by birobird93
Summary: Bella is working at Blood Moon-a gentleman's club. She's fiery, smug and rude. And she needs a new body guard. Who better to hire than none other than Edward Cullen. Will the polar opposites clash at work where they need to co-operate? LEMONS B E
1. Overrated

**Welcome to my sick sick world of fanfic. :) Hope you enjoy!**

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_**everybody everybody just wanna fall in love**_

_**everybody everybody just wanna play with me**_

_**everybody everybody just wanna fall in love**_

_**everybody everybody just wanna play with me**_

_**watch out cupid, money is a sick muse**_

_**pull your little ladders out and let me live my life**_

_Sick muse-Metric_

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Friday nights.

They were the worst and they were the best.

Worst? Because I had dirty old men drooling over the stage as I danced. They managed to climb up on there with me at times, their leers and stares made me feel dirty and uncomfortable...but I chose this job, so I had to take it with the good and bad shit.

Friday nights were the best because thats when we made most of our trade.

It was the end of the working week for the tight-ass, small-minded and tiny-cocked office workers. Same went for the middle to lower class half of Chicago. My mind completely reeled over their polar opposites. When it came to strip clubs—we didn't even classify our club as one—we were considered the best of the fucking best.

I had worked here long enough to fully gauge what men were like—I could practically tell you their measurements, their star sign and what fucking brand of tooth paste they used just from a minor glimpse. I could tell if they were a gentleman or a fucking loser of sorts. It could have been branded on their foreheads it became so obvious.

The middle to lower class clientele, they often spent the least, needing to save up all their precious dimes if they ever wanted to come back again.

But they also happened to be the nicest of all. You did always get the rough ones—the ones who got blind staggering drunk and tried to fuck a bar stool or grab you while you worked the arena. That's what we had our guys for—Felix, Demetri, Emmett and James, the body guards.

I was the baby of the place—although I had worked here the longest, I was still the youngest of all the girls.

Esme, my boss, hired me about three years ago—fresh out of high school and not to mention, _money_. I was working toward a better future, one that involved an education. But shit like that didn't get dropped in your fucking lap, not for a girl like me, anyway. I had grown up in some bum fucked town where I had a higher chance of contracting an African virus than of getting anywhere. That's why I moved away—that and because the place reminded me of my horrible past.

Forks was my personal hell hole, waiting to swallow me up and keep me there forever. No fucking way was I going to work at the Newton's outfitters store for the rest of my fucking life. I would end up with a gun to my head, preferably Charlie's. Although he was dead now. Long gone from my life and everyone else's.

I missed him so much that I often had to compartmentalise him from me—like he was just a temporary fixture.

I knew he meant infinitely more than that but...comparing pain with numbness and nonchalance, well, you'd have to be a fuck wit not to take the latter. So after shifting all my shit to the windy city, I was left with no money and nothing of real value but a plane ticket—smart move, dumbass.

So I had naively thought that I could acquire a job at a nice quaint little cafe. Unfortunately, having no experience dampened my chances of getting something with better than shitty pay. I needed to eat, and pay rent, after all—somehow I doubted that five-ninety nine an hour would cut it.

One day I had been walking through the streets, contemplating my move to Jacksonville where my Mother resides.

Her and my step-fuck-face-father. I loathed Phil with an intense passion—but where else could I go?

What options did I have other than to sell myself? I was _not that desperate._ But the idea did seem more appealing then crawling back to mommy and fucking Phil. I was always a strong-minded person, never one to lose control or even cry that much.

I couldn't remember the last time I shed a tear—I felt like an empty box.

Everything had been taken from me, everything that had really mattered. I still had all my things, but compared to having my Dad back...well, I couldn't give a shit about them. I was damaged beyond repair—emotionally. I still looked the same as always, yet my eyes lacked joy, if you believed in that shit.

I could tell...I wasn't the same, not exactly. I had found a photograph of me and my Dad one day—I didn't cry, I refused to. But I was heaving my stomach up in the sink after seeing the stark contrast between the past Bella and the present one. Past Bella was happy and cheerful. Present Bella was an antagonistic bitch.

I knew what I was, so I wasn't going to deny it. My young little heart disappeared the day I found out there was no God. There couldn't be a god when someone like Charlie Swan was taken from the world. It was such a waste. And now, years later, here I am. I'm living, I'm breathing, I even smile occasionally.

But where was my purpose? I had some purpose, I supposed.

People needed me.

Esme, for instance—my boss.

She had become more than just a kick ass boss over the four years I had lived under her roof and worked in her club. So, I did have some reason to keep on trucking or whatever the fuck it was that I did. Survive? It wasn't all bad, though.

I loved dancing. Before moving to Forks when I was seventeen—I couldn't take Phil's abuse anymore, and Renee's obliviousness to the abuse—I used to dance. In Phoenix, I had done Ballet and Jazz. It was fucking epic.

I loved it and I was so passionate about becoming famous off of it. I hadn't been as passionate about anything like it until I started hating Phil.

I often choreographed some of the dances for the other girls who needed help creating something different and eccentric. I was glad to help, but most of them were often too intimidated by me to even ask. I wasn't exactly...pleasant with people. I probably looked like a delicate flower and handled like one—but I wasn't a very nice person.

I had turned into a bitter cynic all by the age of twenty three. By all rights, I should be an old lady with the attitude that I kept up. And I knew that one day, it would all come to spit in my face or bite me in the fucking ass. Because not everyone was going to put up with my attitude for the rest of my life.

I was sure of that. But then if someone didn't like the way I acted or the way I treated them, they could go and get fucked.

They didn't matter to me. I did what I did. I danced like I was supposed to. I got paid a hefty pay cheque—often over two grand per week. I lived with Esme and she took my rent out of my total pay for the week. She was rich bitch and I liked that she was a woman of power too.

She liked to pretend that the men ruled, but everyone knew that they definitely didn't hold the authority they thought they did. After all, the world would fall apart without women like Esme. The people who got things done, and they didn't do half-ass jobs either.

If she had been any other way, I probably wouldn't have grown to like Esme as much. But she was the way she was, and I was the way that I was—which was a bitch, and she hardly minded that. We were both ball-busters, but only I had to keep the facade up of the sweet little innocent erotic dancer.

Talk about contradicting ideals. Esme had found me working at a stingy bar down near where her club was.

She had been scoping the neighbourhood for new meat—knowing that anyone would take what she offered, considering the money and bonuses she had to give. I was working ten hour shifts at that shit-hole. The ladies room wasn't even properly furnished. There were holes in the fucking cubicle door which I had ranted about to my fucking boss, Laurent, some French fuck.

He had just dismissed me.

From that point, I had vowed never to go to the bathroom while at work. I had to hold it in until my break every day. Which was an enormous feat for me. Those sick, pathetic little creeps I worked for always eyeballed me and groped me behind the bar.

I had gotten used to it after a couple of weeks.

If I complained I was just asking for them to fire me—under what grounds?

What did it matter? I was as good as gone and out on my ass again. So work place sexual harassment aside, the money was a little better than most places I had worked at.

I served a strange brown-haired woman who was eyeing me speculatively from her stool. I was about to politely tell her to fuck off because I was not gay when she offered me a goddamned job. "Are you a lesbian?" I had asked her. She snorted, almost choking on her tequila shot. I bit my lip and felt embarrassed for asking when she obviously wasn't, after that reaction. So thats how I got my job at _Blood Moon_. The club for gentlemen seeking a fun time, as the slogan says.

I had almost slapped her across the face when I saw those words scrawled under the sign.

But she assured me that it was a dancing club and the girls who stripped did it of their own volition, of no request from her. They did it because they liked to. If you didn't want to, you had no requirement to.

I could dance? I could dance and I didn't have to get naked to make money out of it?

It was too good to be true. I had smiled properly for the first time since I had arrived in that city. Most of my time was spent in that place. My first day was incredibly intimidating, the ominously lit sign at the front pulsed and I considered running away but I squared my shoulders and promised myself that I couldn't keep running like a little bitch anymore. So I entered the devil's front door and found myself in an intoxicating atmosphere. It was a strip club...but it wasn't.

If that made any fucking sense. It was as sophisticated as a fucking a broad way show.

A blonde beauty was gyrating her hips against a shiny pole—I was about to ask where the fire men came out when Esme greeted me by putting her arm around my shoulders and started talking. "I know how it must look, but in time, I think you'll grow to love us...like a family." My heart deflated and I felt an angry heat build inside my chest.

"No thanks," I spat at the woman who had been nothing but kind to me. "I don't do shit like this." I hissed before turning on my heel and shouldering past her.

She caught my leather jacket clad elbow before I could escape. I turned on her with my fist balled. I would have hit her had she not been so quick as to twist my arm behind my back. "Listen, I was only doing that so Felix wouldn't drag you out by your hair for laying a hand on me." She growled in my ear.

I rolled my eyes but when I caught an eyeful of the fucking behemoth in black that guarded the door, I gulped loudly.

She slowly let go of my arm and looked me straight in the eye.

"I know what kind of girl you are. And I know that you don't want to be stuck in that seedy bar for the rest of your life." She had told me.

"You need to be able to express yourself. You can do that here with no judgment. You can have admirers and people who bow down to you. People will worship you here. What's the most you're going to get from that bar you work out now—La Push, what is that French?—where is that job going to take you? Other than the emergency room?" she enquired. I knew she had me after that. "Yeah, my boss is a French dick." I mumbled and sighed.

"Fine." And that sealed my future for the next couple of years.

At the time I had no idea that it would lead to a series of chain reactions that would indeed alter my life drastically. I had been too wrapped up in surviving for that not to occur to me. The foreign odours and the strangers who worked here, the setting and the colours and lights—they soon became familiar and somewhat like a home.

Just like Esme had promised. Tonight I was starting on my new routine, one I had practiced repeatedly for the past fucking month and a half.

Tonight was gentlemen's night—when was it not? And since when were these pigs gentlemen?

I scoffed at Esme when she had called it that in the flier she sent out—she just glared at me and told me to get ready for the night. I stood in the middle of the stage, painted black. The fluorescent lights flickered with different colours as the music started up. Booming speakers where situated on either end of my little arena.

The smoke machine pumped mist into the air among the sweaty patrons and their drinks. There was a line of particularly sharp looking guys at the front, surrounding the very edge of my stage. The little lights lit up their faces and I could almost see the drool escaping the corners of their mouths.

They were wearing suits—the business fuckers, I hated those dirty bastards. Their faces were drawn and dishevelled from the end of work for the week. I sighed and shook myself out a bit, before Eric, our DJ, placed the spotlight over my head. The heat coursed through my body and I started moving. Their eyes moved along with my body—now I wasn't a traditional stripper, so there was no nudity when I danced.

The staccato melody of the song flowed through the thick air, beating in rhythm with my heart. My body swayed and bobbed sensually, the sheaths of white and blue fabric waving around my figure—hypnotising the boys in the audience.

I didn't know what it was, I had no idea why they all seemed to flock to me so loyally.

I never revealed my breasts or anything like that, yet somehow, everyone enjoyed watching my dances more than the other girls. Like Rosalie—the blonde goddess, or Jessica—both beautifully voluptuous. Esme had told me that it was something about my innocence, the purity that emanated from me while I moved in such and impure way. And the fact that I left everything to the imagination unlike the rest of the girls who worked the stage or the bar.

The bar maids were always topless and the strippers—or what we better liked to be called, exotic dancers—were...well, stripping naked. So I guess I was something they had yet to see and the fact of new meat excited the fuck out of them.

I hated being referred to as an object or a piece of ass—not a human being, quite an intelligent one at that or someone worth-while. But it came with the job or adult entertainment. I made my bed, so I had to lie in it. I was nearing the finale—the sort of climax of my seductive routine, swinging my hips then gliding to my knees and heaving my chest upwards. I moved my hands over my body and I swear I could almost hear their cocks snapping to attention.

_At ease, comrades_.

I smirked at them wickedly and it looked like the bald guy in the corner just came. I crinkled my nose a bit in disgust before finishing up and throwing my head back—flash dance style. They ate that fucking shit up. I was greeted with a standing ovation, well...at least part of them were standing upright.

I shuddered, trying to remain inconspicuous. I bowed at the waist, turning in all directions toward my horny audience.

As I prepared to turn a rowdy customer grasped my ankle. I grit my teeth together as he tried dragging me from the stage.

His fingers dug in and I yelped. The music was still thumping loudly and the lights were flaring so I wasn't sure when someone was going to notice. I was angry, but I wasn't that strong. Not strong enough to take on some drunk fuck who probably weighed more than my fucking SUV.

"James!" I yelled out across the tables to the dark figure that loomed in the corner.

James was a mad fucker, he would take care of the situation. I didn't like him all that much but when it came to doing his job—he did it well.

His blonde head snapped up, meeting my fiery gaze before he came stalking across the floor toward my stage, grabbing the guy who had me in his hold and hauling him out of his seat. "No touching the ladies!" He bellowed above the music. I shook my leg out and turned to storm backstage.

My heels clicking angrily against the hard surface. I was grumbling under my breath, tearing at the stupid fucking necklace I had to wear for this dance. It was suffocating me and I needed to calm down. I came down the steps to a door.

Everything in this room was painted black and there were hardly any lights back here which made it a shit fight to find your way through here after your dance. It also smelled like hooker sweat and ass back here. Maybe because Lauren was working tonight—I thought acidly.

Stupid bitch—always been jealous of me. I was growing more frustrated with tonight, turning the knob and throwing the door open. I tore the necklace from my neck, the string breaking and the blue glass beads scattered across the carpeted dressing room.

"Fucking hell!" I yelled then sighed. I was so wound up tonight. I needed a drink, desperately. I stalked over to my vanity table while I heard someone walk in behind me. I expected Rosalie or Jess but instead of one of the girls, it was James.

"What?" I said a little too sharply. His face stayed calm and distant as he approached me. I grabbed a shot glass from the draw and my bottle of vodka. I smacked it down on the table and poured it to the rim. James must have noticed my tense little episode. He took a seat from Rosalie's table and pulled it behind me. I frowned at his actions until he started rubbing my shoulders. I groaned. Oh that was good. "Mmm..." I hummed in pleasure. I desperately needed a massage too.

"That feels so good." I whispered, leaning my head forward. I took a moment to down the alcohol, the warm buzz helped calm my frayed nerves. If I wasn't careful, I was going to develop a fucking stomach ulcer. James's skilled hands never ceased.

I sighed and closed my eyes as he worked his magic. I was feeling quite calmed until his hands started wandering. My eyes snapped open and I frowned, turning my head to the side whilst his hands slid up my neck then down my shoulders and arms.

"James..." I started disapprovingly. "I know you feel it too, Bella." He whispered into my ear. "I know you like me. I've seen you look at me...the way I look at you." I opened my mouth to say something but...what in the hell could I say? I did in no way like James like that. I almost hated him.

I had never liked him. He could be polite and civil, but that's as far as I would go with him. It was hard to even be friends with him. I had tried to persuade Esme to look for some new guard material a long time ago. Now it was coming to this. "James, no." I said softly, trying to spare his feelings in the process of rejecting him. "Stop it. You don't like me. I don't like you. Okay? I have to get back to fucking work." His hands tightened on my arms and he refused to let me stand up.

"No." He growled and my anger exploded. How dare he fucking order me like some misogynist prick.

I was _nobody's property!_ "What?" I spat, looking back at him in the mirror. He met my eyes with his as he leaned down to kiss my neck. I pulled away, cringing and scrunching my nose up. I pushed his face away and wiped my neck of his spit. "Ew, James. Fucking stop it. I will never like you that way.

Get it through your fucking head!" I growled and stood woodenly.

"And don't touch me." I ordered. As I tried moving around his chair, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to him. He was fucking strong, too. There was a reason he was hired in the first place. The glow of the lights in here hardly helped. He would have construed it as romantic. I felt sick to my fucking stomach.

"Let go of me." I said in my sharpest tone. His eyes flashed with a haze of anger and rejection. "I will not." He whispered and as fast as a lightning bolt, his rough hands tore at the gauzy material that covered my body. The wisps of blue and white silk were shredded with one fast jerk of his fist.

I whipped my hand back and slapped him square over the face. His hands gripped me tighter before he shoved me a bit, causing me to be off balance. I tumbled down onto the floor, wasting no time, he continued to tear up the rest of my costume. I didn't feel scared.

At that moment, I was fucking ropable, livid. I was mega fucking pissed.

But the pissy-ness was beginning to fade, leaving space for a foreign, forbidden emotion.

Fear. He was supposed to be protecting me! This slimy bastard had the intention of every man out in that bar that he was supposed to keep from me. That mother fucker. His long blonde hair spilled across my face and I fought the urge to gag under his weight and his scent—cigarettes and rum.

Everyone drank on the job at this place. "Get off me! You dirty fucker!" I screamed. I felt his fingers move down the inside of my thigh and thats when I knew his next move. I kneed him in the groin. Triumphantly, I kneed him again, earning an ear-splitting yowl. That would teach that motherfucker. He grasped my hair, and started licking up my neck. I guess I hadn't won just yet. He had me mostly pinned and it was hard to breathe. I felt his teeth bite into my flesh and I screamed out.

"Felix! Demetri!" I cried, desperate for the two other guards who helped out here. At least I liked them and they liked me—in the right way. I scratched furiously at his face, his eyes narrowed and he tried undoing his pants while simultaneously restraining my wrists with his other hand.

A loud bang sounded from behind me and I knew it was the door opening and slamming against the wall. He was distracted from his vicious tirade and I took the advantage to kick him in the shin with a heeled foot and pushed his gross body off of mine. Felix appeared then with Demetri and Esme flanking him.

He grabbed James by the throat and I proceeded to kick at him. "You!" Kick. "Fucking!" Kick "Asshole!" I screeched before Demetri got a hold of me. I assumed now that they were here and I was upright, James was in more danger than I. I was so close to ripping his fucking balls off right there for touching me.

Nobody touched me without clear consent. And I hadn't been touched that way since Jacob—my high school boyfriend.

Such a long time ago that I had pretty much forgotten how it felt. Intimacy. In my opinion, it was overrated. I spat in his face before he scrambled out with Felix's hand fisted in the collar of his shirt. The room fell into a shocked silence. I was still fuming, my hands fisted into tight balls at my sides.

I was so pent up on adrenaline that I wasn't even covering myself. Demetri reached over to my vanity table and retrieved my robe. He carefully, hesitantly placed it on my shoulders before he fled too, probably too afraid of the fall-out from the situation. If I was him, I would be running from me, too.

Esme put a tentative hand on my shoulder. I sighed and unclenched my hands, grabbing the bottle of vodka and taking a swig. It took my breath away slightly and it warmed my stomach—my cheeks flushed a little and I knew it was working. "Easy there," Esme warned after I took a few more gulps.

"Who cares?" I muttered. She sighed then. "Everyone here cares about you, Bella." I snorted then shook my head.

"Well," I announced in a mocking edge. "Looks like we need a new fucking body guard. Guess you had some pretty shitty taste when you hired that fucker." I said, pointing to the door with my thumb. "I had no idea he was going to fuck shit up like this. Obviously I wouldn't have hired him if I thought he would go rogue." She muttered defensively. I sighed and went to sit down again, I was exhausted."Whatever, just find someone new before tomorrow night." She nodded her head in assent.

"I'll round up the applicants we've gotten in the past month." I nodded once. She bit her lip before she turned to the door.

"Are you okay?" she said seriously, inclining her head. I raised an eyebrow at her and smirked—my signature smart ass expression. "Yeah, I'm fine. Jesus, nothing happened." I shook my head and heard the door close shut. I stared at myself in the mirror, my eyes wide and penetrating. I heaved in deep breaths before glaring at my reflection, disgusted at my weakness.

"Grow up," I told myself.

"Be a big girl."

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**So what did everyone think? I know, she's a little crass, isn't she? I like Bella this way, instead of selfless and kind and innocent at heart--she's fiery and smug. Everyone seems to portray Edward as the smug bastard with the attitude. Well, not this time, my friends. ;)**

**Anywho--I hope you liked it.**

**R&R PEOPLES. I would love some feedback! :)**

**PRAISE FOR MY GUARDWARD GROUPIES! I know he hasn't appeared in this story yet, but that's his name, curtesy of FearGirl (who is totally bangin') I mean that in a non-sexual way, ofcourse, coz like...I mean...ahem**

**Uhh....Edward! Right!**

**So he's hot and awesome and he's going to turn up in the next chapter in all his hotness and glory.**

***drools over keyborad* Stay tuned if you like lemons. There will be some soon. Just not yet. I will make them as hot as possible, too. ;)**

**This chapter was pretty long, too. But it was so easy to write, I guess I'm channelling my inner crude whore. Not like I keep it bottled up, though I suppose. But seriously, it was so quick. I was like BAM *typing* DONE!**


	2. New Crew

**Okay, so great feedback from my last chapter! *claps hands* Okay now, *serious face* I don't own Twilight. BUT, apparantly because I made him up with my mind, Guardward is MINE! DO YOU HEAR ME? MINE! I'm kidding, you can borrow him if you like...occassionaly. On alternating weekends. But I have to draw the line somewhere.**

**Go the GIRLPOWER, too! All of you have said how you love this version of Bella. So do i!**

**Edward: I know right, she's totally bangin**

**Birobird: dude, you hate her right now. Ya'll cant be sayin shit like that.**

**Edward: Yeah but...*sigh* I am sooooo horny.**

**Birobird. *raises eyebrow***

**Edward: I just...oh my god! I could fuck a tree if I could, I need some poontang right NOW!**

***runs with Edward to stripper pole***

**Birobird: You like this? *rubs up against stripper pole* *pole squeaks***

**Edward: *groans***

**Birobird: Okay, enough with the foreplay, lets do-- *Edward grabs Birobird by hair***

**Edward: NOM NOM NOM**

**two hours later**

**Birobird: *peaks out behind curtain with 'fuck face' and gives thumbs up to audience***

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It was nights like these when I hated being alone.

But then again, I hated being a sissy bitch, too. So I had conflicting feelings.

It was such an ambivalent attitude. I was sitting in my living room.

Esme had told me—well, no, ordered me—to go home after that fucking James incident. I mean, come on, he barely touched me.

I am fine. But Esme wasn't very convinced. I hated when she did that. She had this smug air about her, like she thought she knew me better than I knew myself. Like how she thought she could see right through to my soul and that it told her I was aching and broken on the inside.

I snorted at that and told her to have a good fucking night by herself.

I wouldn't be there to entertain her while she closed the bar up and had to deal with Lauren needing her G-string pulled out of her ass—I shuddered—fucking foul. She had also told me that when someone told you they were fine, it always meant that they weren't, that they were nowhere near fucking fine.

I liked Esme, but sometimes she could be a real daft bitch. What was the word 'fine' for if it didn't mean okay?

What the fuck? I grumbled silently to myself in the dark. People and their dumbass beliefs.

I sighed and stared out the window of my apartment—mine and Esme's. She had offered me a place to stay when she first offered me my job. I had taken it, only just having my stuff thrown out of my old shitty apartment. I moved in on my second week working at Blood Moon. It had only been temporary to begin with but without me wanting her to, Esme had grown accustom to my presence. And since she wasn't married—I was seriously should be wondering if she _was_ gay, spare the odd guy she brought home to bang—so she got lonely, just like I did occasionally. She had grown to regard me and love me as a daughter or some shit.

I loved Esme too, as much as I could.

As much as anyone who was emotionally and socially retarded could love someone like a mother. She was somewhat maternal, which was kind of weird because she was sort of pimping me out. Well, not really _pimping_, per se. But usually mothers didn't let their daughters dance for the sexual enjoyment of men. Although if I had to chose, Esme was a far better mother than Renee could have ever been.

It was sad, I suppose. But it was fucking true.

I was quite surprised she hadn't gotten sick of me and kicked me the fuck out. Not like I didn't deserve to be with the way I acted. But then who cared? Besides, she needed me at Blood Moon, or the place would go bust. I was the glue that held it together.

I wondered sometimes how she got by without me. It sounded conceited, but whatever. I knew I was good, and I knew people worshipped me, just like Esme had promised the day I started. I sometimes lavished in the attention, after such a long time without any...it reminded me that I was still somewhat human.

I wasn't made completely of stone—at least not yet anyway. I hated who I was, to be honest. I didn't like the present Bella.

She was a callous bitch, but how else was I supposed to make it through the days unscathed? Act all cheerful and pretend I had rainbows sticking out of my ass? I don't think so. The only thing I hated more than myself, were people like _that._ Who had hope. I realised with a stab of dark humour that I was even more cynical than I thought.

I lay my head back on the arm chair and sighed, staring at the moon that hung low in the sky tonight.

The sky scrapers, penthouses and lofts were dotted with blinking yellow lights and I could hear the faint keening of car horns and alarms down on the streets, ten stories below. I stood up and went to the floor-to-roof window that stretched the entire wall of the living room.

We had curtains framing it on either side but we didn't always use them.

As long as nobody went Indian and strutted naked around the apartment, they weren't really necessary. I'm sure I could trust Esme not to do such a fucked up thing. I pressed my hands up against the thick pane of glass and stared downwards. Nothing but pitiful people—god, I was even a bitch when I was on my own.

I tapped my foot on the ground, growing bored. I turned to the adjacent wall and flicked the light switch.

The room illuminated, white couches on golden carpet and white tiles. The lounge room was square shaped with all sorts of decorative throw pillows and vases. Such a pretty good looking home for a strip club owner and her stripper employee roommate.

I had no say in the furnishings, however. Just my bedroom which was pretty plain apart from the dark wooden chest of draws and my bed. I had a nightstand too, in the same kind of wood, nothing on top of it apart from my lamp and alarm clock.

I hardly needed the alarm clock either. I always woke up before it.

I stomped into the kitchen that came off the lounge room.

I opened the fridge and poked around until I found a corona. Good enough, I thought. I took a swig and felt the disgusting familiarity of said drink. I had gotten drunk off of them once a couple of weeks ago and hadn't been able to touch them since.

Spitting it out into the sink with a groan, I spun around and eyed the liquor stash above the fridge. I reached up and took a bottle of southern comfort from the wooden rack. I looked at it speculatively for a moment before unscrewing the cap and taking it to bed with me.

~~~___~~~

I woke up with my blankets curled around my legs and half of my body laying slack over the edge of the mattress. Looks like I had a rough night.

I cleared my throat and kicked the covers off the bed. My alarm went off then. I just about screamed in frustration before I reached behind the night stand to wrench the plug out of the wall. Fucking alarms and their noise. It throbbed inside my skull, my head ached painfully with each blare of that fucking machine.

I sighed and finally opened my eyes, blinking rapidly before I sat up with a groan. I licked my dry lips and stood up, a little wobbly on my feet. I realised I was still dressed in my jacket and jeans that I came home in. I bit my lip then stripped them off and grabbed my robe so I could go take a shower.

The water helped soothe me momentarily and I was finally calm.

I stepped out and wrapped the big fluffy white robe around my body.

I walked into the kitchen to an early rising Esme and her fantastic pancakes. "Ooh, are you going to share?" I asked hopefully. She grinned as she spun around to meet my eyes, placing a plate in front of me which was stacked four-high with blueberry pancakes.

They were smothered with butter and maple syrup and topped with some whipped cream.

I groaned as I popped my first bite in my mouth. "Holy fuck! These are orgasmic," I mumbled, trying to talk around my food. Esme laughed and handed me a mug of black coffee before grabbing hers and taking the seat next to me at the kitchen bench. The tall stools were uncomfortable, I needed an advil, the lights were too fucking bright in here but I didn't care because this breakfast was better than sex. Well, I only had one experience to compare it to, and it won by a giant fucking margin. Jacob wasn't exactly experienced.

It had been his first time too and we were only kids—teenagers. Neither of us knew what to do and I hardly got any pleasure out of it the first time.

After then, he had grown to get used to my body and I, his. That was until I realised that I had no real future with him.

I fucked off after saying goodbye to him, it had been a week or two after Charlie's funeral. Could you believe that Renee didn't even bother to show? I mean, I guess I couldn't completely blame her, it would have been Phil who refused to let her come to Forks. But that didn't stop me from being fucking angry about it.

She was stupid enough to get involved with that fucker in the first place. I finished breakfast—we worked on a nocturnal schedule in this house so it was around four in the afternoon.

I had to start work in two hours, Esme would go in earlier because of the newbies she had to interview to replace "fuck nut" aka, James. I stood in front of my closet, wondering what to wear. Not like it mattered, I would be changing into something else as soon as I got there.

I sighed and pulled on a pair of skinny jeans and a white blouse. I grabbed my leather jacket and slung it over my shoulders.

The familiar scent reminded me of my father's police jacket. I bit my lip and swallowed the dry lump in my throat at the thought of him.

Reminiscing was for the weak who couldn't move on from the past. I grabbed a pair of high heel boots and pulled them on, zipping them up the side.

They were black leather too. I applied minimal makeup, knowing I'd be putting more on at the club tonight. I let my hair stay the way it was, down and in thick waves. I turned away from the mirror, refusing to look at it any longer than was necessary. I grabbed my bag from the sofa where I left it last night.

I checked my phone for messages and had none—like always. It took a little while to find my keys, seeing as how I was partially drunk after getting home. I had forgotten where I put the little fuckers. "Ugh!" I said, throwing my hand up in the air in frustration. Esme tapped me on the shoulder, my keys in her hands. I sighed and smiled gratefully at her before taking them in my hands. "Thanks," I murmured. She nodded. "Can I ask you a favour?" she enquired hesitantly.

I frowned the shrugged. "Sure," I relented. She bit her glossy lip. "Could you work the bar tonight as well?" she asked hopefully, while visibly cringing for my reaction. I rolled my eyes at her. "Yeah, fine. That's fine." I said, unfazed. I was pretty good with mixing cocktails and pouring shots.

It wasn't fucking rocket science, although for Lauren, it probably was. My keys clinked in my hand as I waved it dismissively.

"Just until I finish with the interviews. Thats all I ask." She elaborated quickly. I nodded and shrugged. She let out a relived breath and smiled.

I could tell it was a hugging moment so I quickly got the fuck out of that situation by changing the subject. "We should get going." I said and turned to the door, holding it open for her before closing and locking it. The streets were packed with peak hour traffic. It was gridlock all the way in my SUV.

I was so tempted to crush all these gay little motherfucking Priases. Then there was this pretentious silver Volvo that cut me off after I _clearly_ indicated that I was going to turn into that fucking lane. Esme noticed my lack of patience for the day and turned the radio on to help calm me.

Maybe I was developing anger management issues? I shrugged internally. It was winter and the wind was fucking cold, it cut through the denim of my jeans as we hopped out of the car in the underground car park. I stalked toward the door that opened up into the basement of the club—where we kept the booze and god knows what else.

Maybe we had stripper pole polish in here somewhere? I walked past it all, not giving it a second glance as I made my way up the narrow stair case to the backstage area.

I walked off into the dressing room to deposit my bag while Esme zoomed past me, in a rush to get to her office that was down the corridor. I heard her muffled apology to whoever was waiting and then silence as the door clicked close. I sighed and stowed my bag on my table. "Hey Bella." Rosalie greeted cheerfully, entering the room with a duffle bag. She had probably just finished making her new outfit. She was quite talented with textiles. I sort of hated her sometimes; she was the freakishly happy kind.

But she was my friend and us girls stuck together. Lauren Mallory was that exception though. Stupid, fake –boobed blonde whore.

I ranted silently, mulling over the usual as I stared at my reflection. I did it all the time and I wondered if Rosalie or Jess noticed.

Speaking of Jess, she walked in then, she already had her costume on too and her makeup. Except her little halter top was askew and she walked in with a pout on her lips. I raised my eyebrows. "Can you help me do this thing up?" she asked, turning her back to me. I tied the wayward strings up and patted her on the shoulder. She grinned at me then went to sit next to Rosalie to get a better look at her new costume. I could see it poking out of her bag, a mess of golden sequins and black lace.

I wondered what it would look like on. I resigned myself to the bar then, awaiting Esme to come back to her duties. She preferred it behind the slab of wood and liquor much better than being a dancer. She regarded herself as too old, which was a load of bull shit, she was only thirty-two for Christ's sake!

Ii had told her time and time again that she could totally rock the arena and have tongues wagging with just a bat of her eyelashes but she wouldn't budge.

I knew it was because she was self-conscious but it was a fine line between being self-conscious and being a coward. I rounded the corner and was walking in between the grimy tables and velvet chairs until I made it to the bar.

I pushed my way past the new stock—why the delivery guys brought it up here instead of down in the parking garage that lead onto the basement never ceased to amaze me, or piss me off. I pulled out a cloth to wipe the glossy surface down, rubbing away the glass rings from the customers last night. Eric walked in from the front door then, his head phones on. I smiled as he walked past.

He was wearing a typical DJ outfit—tight black skinny jeans with a loose button down, also black and a tie. He had a hat on and finger-less gloves. He waved at me and I nodded once in acknowledgement. A few guys walked in then—big mother fucking burly guys too.

They were here for the interview by the looks of them. I bit my lip and stared wide-eyed. They all sat along the bar next to each other—three guys in total. "Can I get you anything?" I said sweetly. I hated doing the sticky, honey sweet voice to be polite to patrons. It was so fake and unrealistic.

The one on the end, who had to be the biggest one of them all answered with a guffaw. "Sweet heart, you can get us all a double rum." He winked. I swallowed the lump of rage that rose in my chest from him calling me sweetie and smiled back at him. I turned around to retrieve the rum. I was sure not to wipe the glasses before pouring them, hoping they were sticky and dust covered from last night. "I'm Emmett, by the way." He said over his glass. I nodded. "That's nice," The guy on the opposite end snickered like a school girl.

I swivelled around to glare at him. He was tall with messy blonde hair and pale blue eyes. "And you are?" I asked with a sarcastic edge. He shrugged and grinned into his glass.

"Mike," I sighed. "Well, Mike, would you like another round? This one is on the house if you'd like? We've got whisky, rum, bourbon...or you could just have a glass full of shut the fuck up." Emmett burst out into laughter while Mike's face fell.

I shook my head, throwing the towel on my shoulder. The middle guy smiled at me then, he was also blonde with blue eyes but looked nothing like the other. "Sorry about them," he apologised. "Dick wads don't know how to control themselves." I felt my face quirk up into a smile.

"Perhaps they won't even get the job then...?" I smiled mischievously and his eyes brightened hopefully.

"Jasper," he said in a low voice, holding his hand out for me to shake it. I heard Mike grumble something under his breath and I shot him a death glare before taking Jasper's hand. "I'm Bella." I shook his hand then leaned over the bar to whisper in his ear—Emmett almost choked on his fucking tongue.

This guy was the type of guy I could work with—he sounded like me, dark humour with a smugness that radiated out of his pores. He also had a panty-dropping Southern drawl. "Maybe I could talk to my boss about getting you a position," I whispered then pulled back to wink at him.

To hell with this single shit—I needed to get out into the fucking world. I needed to fuck someone and then forget his name. I needed to fuck someone then fuck them again. I just needed to get out of this rut that I was trapped in.

I was surrounded by cheeriness everyday and it was going to send me to an early grave. Hopefully this guy was my ticket out. Before I was about to move away to go get Esme and request she interview Jasper first—she came out of her office with another guy.

He was smiling giddily like a fucking idiot. He shook Esme's hand and she motioned to the bar with her hand, staring pointedly at me. I frowned and he came advancing until he got to the bar, standing beside Mike. "Hi," he said politely, a permanent shit-eating grin on his face.

I perked an eyebrow before saying hi back. "I'm Edward Cullen, you're Bella?" I nodded.

"Uh, yes." I said then took a moment to stare over his shoulder and glare at Esme. Why did she have to pick the worst one of them? Fuck this shit.

"It will be a pleasure working with you." He smiled and his eyes fucking twinkled. He was one of _those_ people. I thought I might vomit over him.

"Uh, Esme hired you already?" I asked sceptically. "Yes, she did. And I'm thrilled to make your acquaintance." He held his hand out and I let him take my hand. He pulled it to his mouth and kissed the back of it. I stared—holy fuck, Esme's hired the biggest douche in Chicago! I took my hand back, uncomfortable and disappointed.

He must have noticed because his face fell like he'd just watched his puppy die. I turned to Jasper and his face mirrored mine. "Can I have your number?" he asked hopefully. I glanced at Esme then back to Jasper. "Sure, seeing as how you're not going to be working here." Esme had stupid policies.

Don't mix plastic with paper. Don't mix work with personal lives. Whatever. At least now I could abide those rules.

I penned my number down on a napkin and he slipped it into his jacket pocket.

Esme smiled at the three guys and mouthed the word 'sorry'. I sighed then turned to Edward Cullen—green eyes, bronze tousled hair, stubble, tall, thick through the chest with broad shoulders and a toned body—our new fucking body guard. And he was my exact opposite.

I could see me burning this place down right now. I shouldered past Edward and stalked straight to Esme who looked like a scorned child. "Why'd you hire him? You didn't even consider the other guys!" I hissed. "He's probably never even been in a fight before, how do you know he could cut it?" I asked her doubtfully.

Edward piped in then and my face flushed as I realised he was listening. Eavesdropping ass.

"Actually, I'm trained in hand-to-hand combat. I'm an ex-army officer. I know what I'm doing." He smiled reassuringly. But I could sense a hint of petulance in his tone and it was wearing on my politeness. I sucked in a deep breath then turned to face Esme again, ignoring his input.

"I really think you should re-think your decision," I said in a sharp tone with my teeth gritted.

"She's already made her decision. So you should get used to it." He said, his voice laced with a little venom. He was obviously offended. But I didn't give a fuck. "Ugh! Fine!" I grumbled then stormed past her down the corridor to the dressing rooms.

I hated Edward-the-douche-Cullen, already.

EPOV

What a little bitch! She was blatantly disregarding me _while_ I was standing right behind her! I am a human and I have feelings. How rude. I supposed she was as cold as people have said. Yeah, she was something to look at, but underneath, she was no more than a ruthless cow.

I sighed after the door slammed behind her angry figure. I didn't know why, but she _really_ got under my skin.

I never usually cared for such small-minded people. But she was just...argh! I turned to Esme—my soon to be boss—and smiled warmly. At least some people liked me. "So, my job is to break up any brawls and to keep the dancers from being man-handled?"

I asked, just making sure of my duties and creating small talk to avoid awkwardness.

"Yes," she answered. "Well, _that_, and you will be assigned to watch one girl in particular. You see we had an incident recently..." she trailed off and I nodded in understanding. I gazed around the room that was now my new place of work. I nodded appreciatively.

"So who am I looking over?" I asked, craning my head to get a better look at the DJ's platform. "See, thats the thing..." she said with a grimace.

"You'll be looking after Bella." I sighed and dropped my eyes to my feet.

Well that just sucks.

**:D**


	3. Everything's bigger in Texas

**Hey peeps! You sure loved my last chapter! We're all for the woman power, the bitchy bitch kind of Bella! And Guardward. Can't forget Guardward!**

***licks lips***

**So anyway, this chapter contains lemons--not of the kind you've been wanting though. However, it should make for scandal and growing tensions. Shizza, its only been one day with these two (you can already tell they have some attraction toward the other)**

**I tried writing more but Bella's all used up. Maybe I should do some EPOV next chapter? or maybe I can do BPOV again. I just have to try harder. LOL. **

**Shout-out to FearGirl and Lethar88, my faithful readers from Indecent Affairs! Sorry I've got you waiting on the next chappie! I'll get to work on it straight away! I promise *kisses* And your bi-fic, FearGirl. I've already started. I just need some inspiration. Don't worry, it will come to me. Should I put a lemon in the bi-fic, too? Just a dream though. Edward can and never will be gay in my fics--sorry. I just wouldn't be able to look at him the same. *looks away with sad grimace* *Edward hangs head***

_**Hanging round, down town by myself.**_

_**and i had so much time, to sit and think about myself **_

_**then there she was**_

_**like double cherry pie, yeah there she was, like disco super-fly,**_

_**I smell sex and candy, yeah, whos that lounging in my chair, **_

_**whos that casting devious stares in my direction, **_

_**mamma this surely is a dream, yeah, yeah mumma this surely is a dream, **_

_**dig it.**_

_I smell sex and candy-Marcy Playground_

Seeing as how I had no need to cover for Esme tonight, I decided I may as well get dressed.

Rosalie sauntered out with her new costume on—Jess in tow behind her. I dressed in my green and turquoise number, hot pants and a bikini top with plenty of embellishments. I straightened my hair and put on some makeup to go with the outfit. I put some shimmer powder over my face then down my chest and arms. I made sure to put a good load in my cleavage.

They shimmered like a shiny coin. I smiled to my reflection, trying to perfect my fake-ass grin that I had to wear when I danced.

Esme said that I had to smile, other-wise it looked like I was bored or angry. I hated smiling, somehow it looked wrong on my face. But I did as I was told, pulling the corners of my mouth up and keeping them there. I sighed and sat down, strapping my heels on.

They were platforms with strings that entwined all the way up my shin to below my knee. They were also a turquoise colour. I was able to actually smile when I thought about how badly tonight would go with this newbie. He was an amateur at club brawls. He may be an ex-army whatever, but that didn't mean he was used to this bar scene. He didn't even _know_ the things that had happened here. The fights, the shooting—yes, we had both.

I hoped something like that never happened again. It was three years ago and I wasn't working that night, so I only heard Esme's version of events.

Some guy—Rosalie's ex or something came in, wielding a glock in one hand and a bunch of roses in the other.

I shook my head from that abstraction and turned to the door. Upon opening, I found Edward with his fist raised to knock. He let it fall to his side. "You don't have to knock." I said before shouldering past him and strutting down the corridor. I looked over my shoulder and he looked stunned for a moment before he gathered himself and strode up toward me. His long legs had to slow down for me.

I was short and he was a fucking behemoth. "Can I help you?" I asked acidly. He sighed. "Well, I'm supposed to stick with you," he reasoned. I rolled my eyes. "Keep it on the floor, out where the real problems happen, got it, newbie?" I said, trying to direct him to somewhere where I wasn't.

"I don't need you hovering around me like a bad fucking smell." I muttered, deterring him in the opposite direction once I reached the stair case leading to the stage.

"First of all, my name is Edward, and I would prefer you call me that, not 'newbie'." He said in a hard voice, his jaw tight. I turned to stare at him incredulously. What the fuck did I care? I could call him anything I fucking wanted and he couldn't do a thing about it. And now he was defending himself, so it was going to make my job _alot_ fucking harder. Getting rid of this kid was sure going to test my bitch-abilities. I opened my mouth to make a snappy retort when he spoke first, holding a finger up to halt my words.

"_And_, I'm only doing my job. That is to take care of you and the bar, so I'd much rather you give me the same respect I'm giving you." He demanded, folding his thick muscled arms across his chest. I tore my gaze away from there and glared. "Respect?" I repeated, scoffing. I shook my head and put my hands on my hips in a stubborn gesture.

"You're just fucking lucky Esme doesn't have a back bone. If I was the boss, I would never have hired your sorry ass. I don't want anything from you so don't expect anything from me. Just do your job and keep the fuck out of my face." My chest heaved up and down with each deep, angry breath. I tried to bridle my rage.

It was bubbling to the surface and this fucker just made it harder for me to control it. I hated not being in control. I closed my eyes and shook my arms out, humming lightly to myself. "What are you doing—" "No, shut up." I snapped, not opening my yes. He went silent. I was practicing my anger management techniques.

I had never been to a class in my life, I learnt this shit off YouTube. "Isabella," he said, his voice layered thick with apprehension.

"Stop ignoring me. We're going to have to get along if we're going to work together, okay?" he said. I opened my eyes then narrowed them at his angular face. What. A. Douche. My patience was already wearing thin on this guy. My anger was growing, ten-fold. I felt the blood rush to my face in a fiery flush.

"Do not...tell me...what to do." I said in barely more than a whisper, my hands shaking. He frowned down at me, confused then shook his head and sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I'll get to work then...Swan." he sneered, turning on his heel and walking down the corridor toward the other entrance to the club floor.

I stared after him, my mouth hanging open. I growled incomprehensibly to myself as I waited to be called on stage.

I readjusted my top, pushing my boobs together a little to get more comfortable. I huffed before I heard Eric announce a round of applause for Rosalie and Jess's duet gig. I threw them a small smile as they approached and past me to go change—both were topless. I was still flushed from that little confrontation so I tried psyching myself out, breathing deeply and calmly. I wouldn't let some douche packer ruin my dance.

I slapped my face a little, teasing my hair a bit so it looked like 'sex hair' and stepping through the curtains behind the door. I pulled the curtain back, a vixen smile planted on my face. I slithered out into the lights while the music started playing.

"And now, the special girl you've been waiting for...the sweet little tulip...the beautifully venomous woman...the—" I sighed. Come on, Eric, get on with it.

"The one, the only...Isabella!" he declared as the thumping beat pounded through the speakers, the melody of my song came wafting through the air and vibrating up my legs. It sunk deep into my bones and I found myself moving and swaying sensually without any volition.

It came so naturally now—I hardly had to think about what I was doing before I had all the guys panting after me. I couldn't help but smile slightly at the freedom of my dancing. I wrapped one leg around the shiny pole, lunging down until I almost touched the ground with my ass. I curled back up, swinging my hair back with a flick. I strut around the pole, sticking my ass out to the audience then swinging all the way round in my patented manoeuvre.

The crowd went wild and I heard the usually cat-calls along with some whistles and some 'will you marry me?'s.

I grinned then turned the full force of my gaze upon them, licking my lips before discarding the pole and moving on my own.

I pirouetted and dipped, heaving my chest out and swinging my hips. It had taken me months to choreograph these moves, a lot of fucking blood sweat and tears went into this fucking routine. It was an unspoken rule that no dancer could borrow other's moves or dances.

Lauren had tried imitating mine once but it came out looking like a lump of dog shit smeared on a pole—she also broke her nose on the stage. Besides, Lauren, there was only one other person I hated in this place—Edward Cullen, or should I say, 'newbie'. What a mega fuck head.

He walked in like he owned the place. Speaking of, he appeared out of the corner of my eye. He was standing off to the side, his arms clasped in front of him in the traditional body-guard style. I spun my head around, flipping my hair and gliding my hand down my body.

More cat-calls and more spilled drinks. I glanced at him again as I spun on my heel and hooked my legs around the pole once more. He wasn't watching me—he was watching the audience, a pensive expression adorned his face. I rolled my eyes. He thought he had everything all down—he didn't know what was headed his way, really. He had no idea. I couldn't help but admit that he was fucking ripped, though. But so was Jasper, I mean, not as much, but still. Jasper wasn't one of _them._

The optimistic fucking prissy bitches that ruled this world, unfortunately. Newbie, however, was. And it really rubbed me up the wrong fucking way. I noticed that the club was pretty packed tonight—a Saturday, a line was trailing out the door. Felix was the bouncer tonight—I saw him push a kid back by his chest.

He was obviously underage. I smiled again at the boy's determination. He pouted and glanced furtively at me before dejectedly moving out the door and onto the street. I finished up my dance, beads of sweat trailing down between my breasts as I held my head back, facing the ceiling. I was breathing hard and ragged, but still basking in the reaction I got from my loyal watchers. I winked at them before taking my bow and running a finger down my chest to catch the trail of perspiration.

They all groaned in unison—squirming in their seats. I chuckled and blew a kiss before making my exit.

I trotted down the stairs, triumphant that tonight's first dance had been a successful one.

Instead of going backstage I headed towards the bar, I was completely parched.

Esme had told me not to do that, especially with all the testosterone down here and my lack of clothing—but I was so thirsty! And the mini fridge in the dressing room was empty.

Plus, I felt a little like mingling. It would be better than sitting alone in front of the mirror and trying not to barf. Not like I had eaten much to barf—apart from Esme's fucking orgasmic pancakes. But the dance had practically worked off all of those calories and I was in need of some renourishment.

I skipped to the bar, leaning over the slab and grabbing a bottled water from below the shelf. Esme clucked her tongue and shook her head—a real mom move. I smirked and rolled my eyes. It was just a bottle of fucking water, she could take it out of my pay cheque anyway if she fucking wanted.

I slipped back to my feet and turned to flee when my eyes met a tall blonde man.

Jasper—the would-be security guard, the one that hadn't been hired. "Oh, hey," I said blandly. It was too bad he wasn't working here. It would have been really delicious devouring him in the basement while no-one was looking. Yeah, sex at work, I assumed it would be totally fucking hot. He half-smiled and leaned forward to talk in my ear. "I saw you dancin' up there," he whispered in his scrumptious accent. I bit my lip and stared back, nodding my head in thanks.

"See anything you liked?" I enquired innocently, cocking my head to the side. My heart thrummed in time with the music and I started bobbing my head along with the beat. Jasper raised an eyebrow and smirked. He winked before licking his lips and leaning down again.

"Fuck, yes." He murmured, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. I shrugged.

"I kind of have that effect sometimes..."I trailed off, gazing around the room at my admirers. Lauren had the stage now—I was glad I went on before her so I wouldn't have to use the same pole after she rubbed her sweaty ass against it. Jasper glanced at her then back at me. He grinned, his eyes hooded. "So, can I buy you a drink?" he offered, leaning his hand against the bar next to my waist. I shrugged one shoulder then lifted my bottle of water.

"I have another show in an hour... I can't get into the hard liquor until then." I rolled my eyes and smiled. He looked disappointed for the moment before he perked up. "Well, I'll buy you one then, shall I?" he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "What would you like? Cocktails? Sex on the beach? Long hard screw against the wall..." I laughed at his blatant obviousness. He was quite blunt—just like me. And he sure knew how to get to the point.

"I like sex on the beach..." I said slowly, gazing up at him from under my lashes.

He swallowed loudly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat. I giggled at his directness.

"I wasn't talking about cocktails anymore," he said, grinning and leaning closer, our faces inches apart. He smelled of bourbon and cheap cologne. But that didn't matter. I was so fucking in the mood, I would have said yes to Eric—well...maybe not Eric...

"Neither was I." I winked, a mischievous smirk lit up his features before he closed the distance between our faces. An excited glint in his blue eyes. I smiled before closing my eyes and meeting his lips with my own. He was a little sloppy, but nothing I couldn't deal with.

He parted his lips and tongued mine, asking for permission to enter. I parted my lips with a sigh and his tongue slid into my mouth. It was generic, it was a little boring—but it was kissing. At least I could be getting laid tonight. The thought made me more enthusiastic with the making out.

I entwined my hands around his neck as his arms went around my waist. I had to break the kiss to breath—wanting to spit out the loud of saliva he emitted into my mouth. I smiled tightly at him then asked him to meet me after my next routine and we would go back to my apartment.

I started to move off when he grasped my arm to ask me something. Newbie appeared out of fucking nowhere, a dangerous yet subtly flash behind his eyes. He put a large, pale hand on Jasper's shoulder. All three of us were frozen and I turned to glare at newbie with an intense fervour. "You can look but you can't touch.

Club rules, buddy." He said. I couldn't help but notice he was taking this pretty fucking seriously. I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, newbie. Get a fucking grip. He's with me, okay? No need to get your panties in a twist." I tugged Jasper toward me and newbie let his hand drop to his side before giving me a pointed look. I rolled my eyes and saw his tighten. I was probably pissing him off so much right now.

Hopefully it wouldn't take long for him to fucking quit. He had almost assaulted my tonight-only-fuck-buddy.

And god, did I need one. "Come on," I said to Jasper, sparing one more death glare toward newbie before I dragged Jasper toward the dressing room with me. I passed the dressing room doors, knowing they would be occupied with Jess and Rosalie. We would also have another new girl starting in a week—so this place would be a full house. I hoped I wouldn't have to share my fucking vanity table. That would suck ass. I grasped his hand and pulled him further down the corridor and to the basement.

I pushed the door open, pulling him inside before closing and locking the door behind me. Jasper stood in the middle of a bunch of boxes—vodka, bourbon, whisky, all sorts. He smirked before tearing his jacket and shirt off. I noticed then that he had scars—nice. He sauntered toward me as I leant against the blackened wood.

He wrapped his hands round my back and pulled on the string holding my bikini-like top together. He tugged it off my arms and I was beginning to feel a little self-conscious. I hadn't had sex in four years. It was a little intimidating. But I was Bella fucking Swan. I unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down his legs along with his tidy-widies.

I smirked at them but ignored it once he hooked his fingers into my hot pants and tugged them down off my legs. He didn't need to have his clothes completely off.

It would save time in finding them if they were scattered. I felt the slight tingle between my legs as he revealed his throbbing cock. I fought the urge to frown in disappointment.

I mean, he was...average, compared to Jacob—they were about the same.

But I had hoped...well, being Texan and all. Well, you know how the saying goes. Everything is bigger in Texas. Guess they were fucking wrong. But I made do with what I had. Maybe it was the dull lighting in here, affecting my vision. He hitched my right leg at his hip then swiftly pulled a condom out of his pocket.

He pulled it on then drove it into my entrance. I gasped and grunted as he banged me against the door.

I gripped his shoulders as he thrust harder, beads of sweat dewing on his forehead. It felt good.

Just good. Maybe the tell-tales of women experiencing mind-blowing pleasure were just lies—invented by men to keep us having sex with them. I tried to get more into it, but the spark was absent. Jasper didn't seem to mind though. He grunted and groaned, licking up my neck as he gripped my hips and pumped me. I leaned my forehead against his shoulder as he picked up the speed. I was getting closer to a release when he shuddered and tensed inside of me. He withdrew, leaving me a little bit disappointed. I pretended to climax, just to stroke his massive ego—too bad that was the only massive thing about him.

"Oh, yes!" I wailed, shivering against his sweaty body.

It was a little musty in here and now, thanks to us, it smelled like sex.

I wrinkled my nose a little before he let my leg drop and turned to pull his shirt back on, zipping his pants back up, too.

I grabbed my top and tied it back up, tugging my hot pants up my legs again. I sighed, blowing a stray piece of hair out of my face. Jasper moved toward me again, obviously quite proud of himself. _Believe me honey, that was utterly anti-climatic._ He grinned before licking his tongue over my lips and groping my breasts.

I rolled my eyes but let him have his fun. I got what I wanted from him but apparently getting the raw end of the deal.

The shitty end of the fucking stick. A loud banging sounded behind my head. My eyes flew open and I stumbled forward before unlocking the door and opening it. "Ugh, newbie!" I spat acidly. He stood there with his hands on his hips, towering at six, five—he almost had to duck under the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, folding my arms across my chest. He laughed once, without humour before glancing between Jasper and I. "I was just making sure you weren't getting strangled or raped. My mistake. Sorry if I ruined the moment," he motioned with his chin to the used condom in Jasper's hands.

I flushed bright red with embarrassment and anger. "Actually no, we just finished. Thank you, though. And it was great, by the way." I glared at him. He rolled his eyes. "Whatever, next time just tell me if you're going to be slutting around with patrons so I know not to 'interrupt'." He said sardonically, turning to storm out.

Him in all his black leather jacket glory and pecks. I fisted my hands at my sides and grit my teeth together to keep from screaming profanities at the bastard. "Fucking newbie," I muttered, spinning to catch the door then storming down the hall to the dressing room—forgetting Jasper within moments.

People like him really pissed me off. Maybe I would have to take evasive action. Like, maybe make a complaint to Esme that he was being rude or that he was stealing. That might do the job. Because if it didn't, by the end of the week, I'm going to have a noose around my neck. Maybe I could impale myself on a bar stool.

After the next hour, it was my turn to dance again. I strut out onto the arena—still a little peeved about newbie. I took a deep breath and prepared. It was a little rowdy in here and it was hard to concentrate. I started with my dancing, hugging the pole—hopefully someone had wiped it down after Lauren.

I hooked my legs around it and swung all the way down. I grasped the pole while swinging my hips and flicking my hair.

It was all coming along nicely, my movements flowing together perfectly. I was on my back now, kicking my legs up in the air before turning onto my hands and knees and crawling against the slippery surface, enticing my viewers. I hooked my finger and beckoned them—not expecting anyone to actually come forward.

I winked at them all, spinning back around to grab the pole when I felt heavy arms encircle my waist. I screamed—surprised.

My movements halted and the drunk bastard behind me gurgled into my ear. He hiccupped and I squirmed, trying to turn around and kick him in the manhood. He fell down and pulled me with him, my heel snapping. "Fuck," I hissed, thats when I finally noticed the bedlam before me. The club had erupted into a huge fucking fight.

Oh, shit. Demetri and Felix were hauling people out by their throats. Drunk fuck still had a vice grip on my hips. I kicked out at him but his friend joined.

"Come on, sweet heart" they slurred. "Fuck. You." I grunted, moving to shove my heels in their eye sockets. The lights were flashing so I gasped in shock when newbie materialised behind the drunken fucks. He grabbed a fistful of hair with each and jerked them away from me. They let me go and I pulled my shoes off so I could walk.

I stared at Edward, his face stone cold. He looked robotic and fluent in his movements. He had at least a foot of height on these pigs, and double the muscle.

As he dragged them backwards, he tried breaking up fights along the way. I stood on my podium as I watched the scattering chaos below.

These fuckers were tearing the place up. Rage boiled under my skin and before I could fully think about what I was doing, I jumped off the stage and onto someone's back. They had been trying to fight Demetri off, landing a punch in his gut that didn't seem to affect him much.

I still reacted, getting a choke hold on the guy as he spluttered and spun around, surprised. I was growing dizzy with all his spinning, wondering who would be the first to barf, me or him. I could hear people shouting, the music was turned off so it was only our voices making noise.

I heard glass shattering and people cursing. Among the voices, one stood out for some annoying reason.

The drunk lump I had attempted to tackle stopped dead in his tracks, Edward stood in front of him, snapping his hand forward and punching him in the stomach. He choked and wheezed, bowing at the waist before collapsing to his knees. Edward grabbed my arm and threw me back so he could pick the guy up. I huffed, crossing my arms. No fucker man handled me. Although, he had seemed to prove himself tonight...slightly. That didn't change the animosity I felt for him, either.

I just hoped I could keep hating him.

* * *

**Don't worry, guys. She's getting there. *strokes Bella's hair* Reviews are better than a dirty basment that smells like sex after you had just had to fake a screaming orgasm.**

* * *


	4. Stone queen

I shouldn't even be doing this.

I shouldn't. What the fuck has gotten into my brain?

God, this was so frustrating! Why can't I just fucking go home and go to fucking sleep.

I was exhausted, and apparently, tackling drunk guys really took it out of me. I needed a drink! I was shaking my hands out and pacing up and down the long dark corridor outside of the male bathroom. I sighed, growing frustratingly impatient as I kept pacing back and forth in front of that door, waiting for him to come out.

I decided I would take a nonchalant angle, pulling all the trademark moves I had grown accustom to over my years of bitterness. I would be smug and unaccommodating, but I would thank him. I just wouldn't be doing it politely, or like a normal person would.

I was so fucked up. My heart was still beating in my ears from all the commotion that had happened tonight. I had witnessed fights, plenty of them. I had often been an enthusiastic participant. But this had been different.

I still wanted to get involved, but unlike the other times where I was one-on-one with another girl or some drunk dwarf who couldn't stand up straight—I was in the middle of a brawl. A full blown fucking cluster of huge men, throwing punches and kicks around like they did it on a daily basis. Rosalie and Jess had holed up in the women's bathrooms once they saw the first signs of a bar fight. The had run scared and found a safe place to stay until the rowdiness broke up. Which is exactly what I should have done, but didn't.

Because, well...I wasn't a pussy. So I had taken evasive action and thrown myself on top of a guy who was proving difficult for the newbie to get a handle on.

I was helping the kid out—ungrateful bastard—and he had practically shoved me away without any acknowledgement. Who did he think he was?

But even though it fucking pained me to do it, under Esme's orders, I had to thank him for having my back when the first guy tried to feel me up. I sighed, spinning around on my heel and stalking down the other end. I was in my civilian clothes now—my jeans, leather jacket and boots. I was still wound up from everything—that lousy ass fuck I had gotten from Jasper. What a fucking disappointment. I mean, he had the potential, but I wasn't patient enough to teach him.

I needed someone who was experienced in the 'sexy time' department and knew how the fuck to make a woman orgasm. I had, unfortunately, never experienced one from a man. What a gift to women, they were, I thought sarcastically. I ran my hand over my hair, pulled up into a ponytail.

Esme was so fucking insistent, she wouldn't let me go home until I did this.

"This is so fucking gay!" I complained out loud, clenching and unclenching my clammy hands. It wasn't as stuffy in here anymore and the coolness of the night was sort of getting to me. I didn't have a lot of fatty layers under my skin to keep me warm for the night—I wasn't a hibernating bear-like person who could go to the snow in jeans and a t-shirt.

I even got chilled in the humid, sticky heat of a spring in Chicago. God, I was such a weakling. I was still pacing when I heard the door creak open behind me.

I spun around, my hair flicking into my eyes. I winced and brushed it away with my hand briskly before resentfully walking up to Edward.

He was glancing up the other end of the hall, then once he turned his head, his eyes fell on me. I was surprised by his expression. I thought that from having such a hellish first day, he would be a wreck with crazy eyes and sweaty hair. But I guess I was wrong.

Either that or I was hallucinating a perfectly serene-looking Edward before me.

His eyebrows pulled together over his eyes as he watched me fidget uncomfortably.

I sighed and paused in front of him, not meeting his eyes because this was too fucking humiliating to do while he smirked at me. The lights were dimmed around us, looks like Esme was closing up shop. I could imagine her stacking the stools on the bar and the chairs on the tables as she went passed, making her way to the backstage door. "Can I help you?" Edward asked in a pleasant tone. The pleasantries pissed me off. He was fucking with me on the most annoying fucking level. He was being overly polite. Stupid fucking body guard. I didn't say anything and he started to walk away, shaking his head in indignation.

"Unbelievable," he muttered. "What is?" I sneered, causing him to halt his movements and turn around slowly. He met my eyes with a steady glare. He straightened up and squared his shoulders. "You are," he said surely and steadily.

My eyebrows rose to my hairline.

"Excuse me?" I choked out. I couldn't believe my fucking ears. He said what? "You could at least thank me for saving your ass instead of acting like a petulant little girl." He said in a low, hard voice. I laughed without humour, getting distracted from what I was there to do, and that was to actually thank him—unwillingly.

"Hang on, you think _I'm_ the petulant bitch?" I asked in an incredulously amused tone. I snorted. "That's rich, newbie." I shook my head, chuckling.

He squared his jaw and clamped his lips together angrily. "You know, maybe you should get off of your pedestal and say hello to the rest of the human race." He said, lowering his voice so I imagined it wouldn't come out in a growl. "Fuck you," I spat, staring at him like he was a cock roach. I had just been thinking that I was on a pedestal, but that wasn't the point. I was the only one that could point out my faults, no-one else could.

Because that really grated on my fucking nerves.

I felt like clocking this bastard across the chin, or maybe an Italian leather boot to the groin. That would shut the fucker up. I would be violent with style. Nice. Newbie shook his head, a couple of strands of bronze hair falling over his eyes.

My fingers twitched. I narrowed my eyes at him, waiting for him to say something. "Fuck yourself." He quipped in response, fisting his hands at his sides. My eyes flickered to them and I actually wondered if he would hit me.

"Why am I even here?" I said in a disgusted tone, talking to myself more than him. He snorted. "I don't know. If you were just going to verbally beat me, then you have another thing coming." I rolled my eyes and scoffed.

"Actually, _newbie_," I sneered and lavished in his scowl.

"Esme told me to thank you for being such a man and doing great on your first day." I said in a mockingly sweet tone, making a dramatic sweep over my forehead. He crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles flexing under his shirt.

"And you think I didn't? I did save you from getting molested by some sleazy bastard in an office suit," I scrunched my face up.

"If you think that _that_ was good work, then _you_ my friend, have another thing coming." I chided, repeating his last words, baiting him. I _really _liked baiting him. Because he would always retaliate—it pleased me. I frowned to myself—weird. "I've had worse situations, newbie, and I got by just fine without you. I'm alive right now, aren't I?" I asked, holding my arms out.

He skimmed his eyes over my body then back to my eyes. "Maybe," he allowed reluctantly. I smirked. That's what I fucking thought. "And next time, don't fucking touch me." I snarled, remembering how he shoved me. His eyes widened and flashed.

"That's because you decided to fucking interrupt me—you were going to get _both_ of us beaten to pulps because you thought you would be tough and try taking on a full-grown fucking man while he was already being taken care of!" he raised his voice, speaking through tight lips. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I flinched. I wasn't used to being yelled at. I'm surprised it hadn't happened in the past.

I would usually have the last words and the fact that he was the one yelling at me?

It was...strange. It felt so odd and unnatural. I squared my shoulders and pursed my lips. "Whatever you're trying to pull, _Swan_," he growled my name like it was some sordid curse. "It's not going to work. I don't like you and you don't like me, that much you've made blatantly _fucking_ clear. But do what you want, because I'm not going anywhere." He said sternly, his voice slowly lowering into a menacing whisper. I opened my mouth to say something but no words could escape.

He had rendered me speechless? That wasn't supposed to happen.

Cue snappy remark. And...go! Nothing.

I stared, open-mouthed. Did newbie actually chastise me? For being a bitch? He smirked then. "Looks like you needed someone to quash your giant fucking ego." He glowered then went off storming towards the stairs that lead to the basement and the parking lot off of that. I was standing there, stunned into silence as I relayed over the conversation. Hang on, had I blacked out? Had I actually been drinking without knowing?

I frowned, and felt around in my pockets as if they held the answers. I felt stupid then...and defeated. _Nobody_ made me feel this way. No-one ever dared to speak back to me like they were better or that they knew more than me. It just didn't happen.

I shook myself out as if I could shake off the past five minutes from my memory.

**EPOV**

What a fucking joke. Maybe I should never have taken this job at all.

This girl was driving me insane. But then, two could play at that game. I could make her life a living hell in return if I so wished. She deserved to be knocked down a few pegs. I doubted anyone had ever had the guts to reprimand her for being a total bitch. It was probably because of her looks.

The fact that she looked innocent and so young, it's what seemed to be a repellent. People would probably feel guilty if they called her out if she was acting inappropriately. Luckily I didn't have that problem. I had the skills, I had the work ethic—why didn't she think I had it in me? What was stuck so far up her ass that she had to be so petty? I wondered maybe if it was because of a bad experience—that often was a trigger for people being assholes later in life, but I doubted it. She may be working in a strip club but she had people who loved her—Esme for instance. I seriously didn't understand how she could, but she did, as if she were her own child or something.

I was worked up from that little argument. And before that, the fight in the club.

Saving everyone's asses proved to be difficult, especially when she decided to act stupid and try to take down someone double her size. Silly bitch. Was she suicidal? Then before _that_, walking in on her and her friend after a session of nookie.

What the fuck? Why would they do that in a seedy basement? It was filthy down there and by the look of the guy she was fucking, I had no idea, why she even bothered. I didn't get the draw she had for him. I was growing more and more frustrated.

I mean, who has sex like that? I could tell she wasn't satisfied.

She was flushed but I could detect the sliver of disappointment in her eyes when she spoke of their conquest like it was the best damn fuck she had. I knew better and it amused me that she was trying so hard. But, those thoughts aside, it was a pretty good day.

Well...who am I kidding? It was a real shitty day. An especially shitty first day.

All thanks to the smug bitch who looks down her nose at everyone.

Maybe I should just teach her a right hook and let her fend for herself while I took care of the girls who actually wanted my help. But as I thought about it, she would never let me teach her anything, assuming she already thought she knew how to do it. She wouldn't take my help. I didn't know her at all, but it was so easy to know how she would react to certain things. The tense animosity we shared was so unnecessary, but she started it.

I had been completely cordial when we first met, greeting her genuinely and excitedly. She shook my head but ignored me after that. Then when I actually help her out, she goes off on a tirade about how I would never be able to do my job.

She had no idea how good I was. I was almost taller than the other two guys that worked there—Demetri and Felix. They seemed to like me, so did the dancers—Rosalie, Jessica and Lauren. It was just Bella—curse her, that couldn't get over the fact that she hadn't gotten her way.

But by the way she had looked after her preferred employee choice, Jasper, had fucked her in the basement, it was obvious that she didn't want him to work here anymore. This attempt to get me to quit was only because I wouldn't put up with her shit. She probably wasn't used to being rebuked.

Well, she better get used to it now. I wasn't going to hold back. I got into my Volvo—keying the ignition and peeling out of my parking spot.

I spun around and drove out of the lot, into the night.

~~~___~~~

As I pulled into the parking lot a few days later, I saw Bella trip on the bitumen, spilling the contents of her bag across the ground.

I pulled into my reserved spot, peeking out of my review mirror at her. She looked like she hurt herself. I groaned and sighed. As much as I hated her, she was still my responsibility after I had entered the lot. I wouldn't be a very good body guard if I didn't help her out. I resented that, but what could you do?

I had to do my job. I grabbed my leather jacket and wallet, stuffing it into the pocket before shrugging it on.

I closed the door behind me, locking the door and jogging over to Bella. She was sitting on the ground, a pained expression on her face while she cradled her arm. Her eyes flicked up to me and the pained expression left—she glared at me before shifting to a kneeling position.

I bent down and started picking up her things. I grabbed her bag and started refilling it. My hands came across an engraved locket. I frowned, rubbing my thumb over the shiny silver heart. She snatched it out of my grasp and shoved it in her pocket before attempting to stand up.

I rolled my eyes and stood up from my crouch. She could fucking shove my help up her ass if she was going to act like that.

I don't know why I bothered. I seriously didn't. I shoved the basement door open and was met with Demetri. "Hey," I grumbled, moving past him in a haste to be away from the queen bee bitch. He gave me an apologetic look, knowing that Bella was giving me a hard time. He held the door open for Bella and I glanced over my shoulder to watch her storm determinedly into the dressing room. I sighed and walked straight to the bar, pushing the door open into the dimly lit room.

I scratched my chin and took a seat in front of the slab, tapping the wood to get Esme's attention.

She rose to a standing position from being bent down while she counted the stock.

"Oh, hello Edward." She greeted cheerfully. I smiled in return. "Shooter of whiskey, Esme." I ordered in a small voice. I would need the buzz if I was going to be working with _her_ again today. She chuckled and shook her head, pulling out a shot glass and the booze.

That's all I needed.

The booze. Hopefully I wouldn't ring her neck by the end of the night and I would go home happily. But I shouldn't ever hope that she was going to behave herself.

Because that wasn't her style. It was like she lived to torment me. She must have been real bored before now. Speak of the devil—she appeared then, standing against the bar beside me and leaning over to talk to Esme. She ignored me completely. I stared into my glass, the brown liquid looked extremely interesting now. I swirled it around and just as I thought she wasn't going to pick...she fucking picked.

"Drinking on the job, Newbie? Not very good work ethic." She chided in a mocking tone.

I felt like drowning myself in my cup. I wish I had a big tub of it to dunk my head into right now.

I sighed and shook my head. I downed the rest, licking my lips and inviting the slow burn that came with it. I slid the glass down the slippery surface. "Thanks, Esme." I smiled, hopping off the stool and walking away. But where to? We didn't have some secret lounge. We didn't have a dressing room or anything.

There was nowhere to escape! I stalked around for a bit before being struck with a realisation—the men's room! I quickly sauntered down the corridor, checking over my shoulder that she wasn't following me. I stayed in there until I heard the music start up. Eric was here.

I could hear the slow beat and rumble of something salsa. I sighed and pushed off the sink.

I hesitantly walked down the corridor, knowing I had to pass their room. I peeked in. There was only Bella—sitting by herself with a scowl on her face. Well, it was only to be expected. She had no friends because she was always such a cow to everyone. She never even gave them a chance—so why should she get one? I hated that she made me feel so inadequate. It wasn't fair and it was wrong that she should have that power, over anyone. I stayed in my corner, like a hermit.

I inflicted this upon myself, I suppose. I had chosen to stay in this job and take it like a man, but _someone_ was making it increasingly difficult to keep my sanity.

I wished she would just...get lost. Maybe Esme could find another dancer. But I knew the point was moot even when I thought of it. Esme would never.

She would probably fire me for even thinking about it. I was stuck. It would also take me too long to find another job if I quit now. I'd end up starving.

Besides, this was what I was good at. No-one, not Bella, would let me think otherwise. I clasped my hands in front of me and watched the crowd for any mishaps. A few guys looked a little shady but otherwise, didn't cause any trouble. I spoke in hushed tones to Felix before Rosalie came on. I had to admit, it tended to get a bit hard to work in here. And I meant that in the literal sense.

I tried not watching but...it was somewhat difficult after their tops came off and they started bucking their hips toward the hissing men. I sighed and shifted from one foot to the other. The lights faded and Rosalie bowed before taking off behind the velvet curtains. A new song started, it was foreign, something South American. The lights were completely out and the crowd went silent for a moment before getting worked up, calling out absurdities and whistling. A spotlight appeared over her brown hair, lighting up her skin and making it glitter. It was quite mesmerising to say the least.

I had never watched Bella dance before and for a reason. I didn't care to watch her show off and see how inflated her ego got by all her admirers. But this time my eyes were already trained to the stage.

She started moving in a way that was so sensual yet so simple that I couldn't tear my eyes away.

~~~___~~~

I tried inconspicuously readjusting myself in my pants.

My raging hard-on was growing quite painful. God damnit! I had almost fucking came in my pants after watching Bella work the stage. It must only be because I hadn't had a good fuck in a while. Yeah, that was it. I had gone for too long without sex that anything remotely hot would turn me on like a cat in heat.

I squirmed uncomfortably as she did an encore. I groaned inwardly and averted my gaze, scanning the tables she was entertaining rather than watching her and getting an even more painful erection. I sighed and rubbed my hand over my face distractedly.

She finally finished. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I glanced up at the stage—expecting to see a very smug looking Bella. Instead, I saw something else in her eyes. Passion? Before it was wiped clean, the smirk replacing any deep, authentic emotion she ever harboured. I slowly sauntered through the tables where the usually clientele bashed their half-full glasses of Budweiser against the table as they watched in aroused excitement.

I felt like punching them all in the faces for some reason. It was kind of pitiful, watching young girls get their kit off to music so they could go to bed happy.

It almost made me sick to think that they would most likely be thinking of Bella to get them off tonight.

I quickly mentally slapped myself. Maybe someone was smoking weed in here and I wasn't thinking straight.

I guess, I couldn't judge. Seeing as how she'd had quiet an...effect on me too. But it was merely superficial. I went straight to the bathroom, cupping my hands under the faucet and splashing my face with water. It shocked me out of that haze and had me alert and aware—like I should be.

I turned the corner to head back out onto the floor when I bumped into a slight figure.

She stumbled back slightly, then realised who it was. "Oh," she said. "You." I rolled my eyes. This was getting real old. "Listen, just save it. I'm not in the mood for your shit, okay?" I said harshly. Her eyes fell to her feet and she nodded, shrugging indifferently before taking off towards the dressing room.

I stifled a growl as I watched her ass sway hypnotically when she walked in that costume. It was a cop's uniform.

She wore lace stockings with a thong and a mock police shirt that was tied under her breasts. "That's it?" I asked, disbelieving. She was just going to pass up an opportunity to mock me? "What?" she asked, frowning, turning around. "That's it, is it? No mocking? No making fun of me for doing a "top job"?" I used air quotations, showing my sarcasm.

She smirked and I felt I could hate her better when she did that. "Is that what you need is it? Are you so desperate that you'll take someone ridiculing you just so you have human interaction?" I stared at her. "That sounds more like a confession than an accusation," I said, trying to reign in my anger.

Her eyes flashed with rage and I could see her fists ball up. I was overcome with déjà vu. We always seemed to have the heated arguments while we were in this hallway. This fucking hallway. It must be cursed. Maybe she cursed it. I just hoped she wasn't sticking pins in a creepy little voodoo doll with my name stitched in the back. I shuddered slightly. "You have no idea what you're talking about, you prick!" she screeched. I recoiled, stunned. Wow, what an outburst.

I guess I hit a nerve. Finally. She seemed to have this constant shield of smug fucking armour.

"Jesus, Bella." This one of the rare times that I called her by her name. It was only because she always called me 'newbie'. I was older than her! I hated that she thought she could condescend me. "What the fuck is your problem? You can dish it out but you can't take it?" I felt my hands shaking.

I took a few measured steps forward so I could intimidate her better. I could smell her now. I was standing mere feet away. I watched her with pity.

"You know, if you weren't so bothered with pissing other people off, you might actually learn some compassion. I'm sure that would be totally new for you, too. Actually, I don't know, be _nice_ to someone?" I asked, growing more and more exasperated. If someone hadn't told her this already, I guess I was as good as anyone to put her back into place.

"You have a great fucking friend out there!" I pointed towards the bar—Esme. "Esme is so fucking loyal to you and you don't give a damn. She took you in and gave you a job with modes pay. She treats you like you were her own daughter. People love and respect you for some reason I don't understand." I added, making a list.

"Yet you don't love or respect anyone." "I do," she whispered, but I didn't give her a chance to continue. "You think you're hot shit. And I don't know, maybe there's a reason behind you being a callous and moody bitch, but one day, you're going to end up old and alone, wondering what the fuck you did to deserve it." I snarled. It was unfair that she had all these wonderful people in her life and she didn't give them a second thought after herself.

"Why can't you just grow up?" I asked incredulously, flailing my hands about. She stared up into my eyes and gulped.

The tension was crackling. I watched her, fuming silently. "Maybe you think that anyone else can't see that you harass them because you're dead inside, but I can. I can see that you're no more than a little child beneath that bravado. So why don't you do yourself a favour and everyone else, and just quit the bullshit?" I let out a deep, shaky breath.

I had lost my cool. She had _made_ me lose it. And now—something happened. A tear escaped her eye. Wow, the stone queen can cry? I didn't know she had the ability. Another tear. I guess she actually got the fucking picture. More tears started streaming as she stared at my chin, unable to meet my eyes.

She reached a shaking hand to her face and pulled it back to see tears.

She looked like she had just noticed blood or something because she looked ill. It was like someone had kicked her hard in the stomach. Her eyes bulged out of their sockets, more tears flowing relentlessly before she shouldered past me, a choking sob was the last thing I heard before the door closed timidly.

I frowned to myself. Well shit, I made her fucking cry. A strange feeling swelled in my chest. Regret, I realised. Well, she deserved to know what everyone was dying to tell her.

I swallowed the odd lump in my throat and went back into the club area with a grimace.

**Did you like? Tensisons are growing thicker. Its getting more hot and sticky between these two, isn't it? LOL. Well, yeah. Anywho, I just loved how Edward verbally beat the shit out of her like that. She needed to be kicked off her pedestal. She will still be a snarky bitch but she'll change a bit.**

**All in good time, though. :)**

**LOVE YOU GUYS! ;)**

**Oh, and what do you think of Newbward for Edward's nickname? Too weird? Sounds too much like noob. I knew it.**

***sigh***

**I'll just go regroup and probably stick with Guardward ;) and his delicious stubble and leather jacket.**

**I should get him to drive something more rebel-ish, shouldn't i? Hmm...**

**Maybe he should have a tat. Well, of course he would, seeing as he's an army officer....**

***licks lips***

**Toorah, off to have a cold shower--I mean...uh, a...tea party...with the...cat... *looks around awkwardly* Yeah....**

**-birobird**


	5. Pessimism

_Doesnt hurt me. _

_You wanna feel how it feels, you wanna know, know that it doesnt hurt me. Y_

_ou wann hear about the deal im making? _

_You._

_You and me._

_And if I only could, make a deal with god. _

_And get him to swap our places, _

_be runnin up that road, be runnin up that hill, be runnin up that building._

**_Placebo-Runnin up that hill_**

* * *

I was choking.

I was suffocating.

Why couldn't I fucking breathe?

I was fucking crying! The feeling was so fucking foreign and nostalgic, that it actually made me feel so scared. I hated being afraid...of anything. I covered my mouth to muffle the sobs that kept breaking free.

I would try and build a wall to stop them from flowing, but try as I fucking might, they would always stream down my face. I leaned my back against the door, bending at the waist until my head hung over my stomach.

I braced my hands on my knees, trying to get a hold of myself before anyone saw me like this. It was bad enough that newbie made me fucking cry, but he had to see it, too. At least I knew he was too fucking pussy to tell anyone.

That gave me a little comfort. I felt even more disgusted with myself for even needing the comfort. I squirmed in my tight shirt—uncomfortable. The heat flowing through my body was causing me to perspire—I was far from cold now. I was boiling in this heat.

It was as though newbie had doused me with gas and thrown his discarded cigarette over my soaked clothes. It was also taking my oxygen away.

So here I was, crying like there was no tomorrow, dying of heat stroke and suffocating because of both. I sucked in deep breaths, trying to level myself. I put a hand over my forehead, wiping the sweat away with abhor. I couldn't believe this! I did not do this often. I hadn't cried since...I gasped and shook my head.

I would not stoop down to that level of weakness. Bella Swan could rise above this shit. I always have in the past.

What milked the most fear from deep inside my blackened heart was that newbie had succeeded in breaking my tear drought within two minutes. He had broken past my meticulously sculpted mask and dug into my deepest secrets. He had actually seen through me—all the way, as if I was a mere piece of glass.

Transparent—in all rights. He had actually...had the power...to make me feel pain. Like a bullet through the chest—he had gone deep.

I was finally breathing normally now—but as I mulled over this, a new sense of fear veiled my consciousness. He was able to see it—see everything about me. How the fuck had I let this happen? If he could see, then everyone else must be able to! Why the fuck hadn't I done anything before now?

Why did it have to take such a conceited asshole to prove no-one was buying my lie.

My stomach churned inside me, making stressed noises at this revelation. Panting, I walked over to my vanity table with shaky legs. I felt like he didn't just rip the shit out of me with his words, but like he had physically attacked me. This was bullshit! I wouldn't let him do it again, that was for sure.

I would be stepping up the armour, the defences. I would not let him or anyone, for that matter, in.

Whether it was someone asking my favourite colour to why I moved to Chicago—I would smile politely and tell them to fuck off and mind their own business. That was the Bella Swan way to do things. And it had gotten me a long fucking way in the past. So, I wasn't about to give that shit up—it was a good method. I sat down on my velour covered seat, wiping the remnants of tears away. My mascara was running in black lines down my face and my nose was all snotty and fucking gross.

I groaned, reaching over my makeup to my tissue box. I dabbed, trying not to smear that shit in case it made me look like a panda, or a Goth, or a Gothic panda. I sighed after it was mostly gone, dabbing at the corners of my eyes before sniffling a bit, blowing my nose then throwing the soiled Kleenex in the trash.

Now that I was better, I wasn't as upset. Well, I didn't feel like crying anymore. That was long forgotten at this point. Right now—I was livid.

_How dare he! How dare he act like he knew me—like Esme did. It was in no way his fucking place!_ I gritted my teeth together, staring at that god forsaken mirror but instead of seeing myself—I saw him, newbie. Edward. He had the same livid expression, his nostrils flared and his lips in a tight line.

His brow was furrowed and his eyes were calm but inside you could see the concealed anger. Like the eye of the storm. It was in the middle, calm and quiet, until all hell broke the fuck loose. I swallowed hard, my throat was dry and aching from the stupid ass hyperventilating. I was not going to lose it, I resolved. I tore my clothes off, finding my proper ones. Esme and everyone else here would just have to do without me for the rest of the night. Maybe the week.

I'm sure Esme could find a temporary replacement until then. I felt as though I was taking advantage of our relationship and how close we were as friends. But that shit shouldn't matter. I needed to let it go. I was feeling so fucking overwhelmed with emotions—I felt like such a marshmallow. I groaned inwardly. Is this how everyone else felt, all the time? Why? Why wouldn't they end the pain with a bullet through their brains? That was far too tempting than it should be.

I huffed, pulling my jeans on over the lace stockings. I pulled on my blouse that I came here in, shrugging my jacket on after that. I flipped my hair out of the collar, zipping it up and stuffing my hands in my pockets. I fished through the mess of clothes on my table for my phone and purse.

I grabbed them and was shocked to see I had messages.

_Would love to have another basement "session", with you._

_-Jasper_

I bit my lip, my rage turning to pity as I got distracted for a moment. There was another one, sent two hours later.

_I know you're probably at work right now...but, call me when you want to hook up again. I had a great time. You're something special. ;-)_

_-Jasper_

Okay, first of all. When a guy is trying to pick up a chick—I don't know if this applies to me or the rest of the female fucking population—it is not appealing to the woman if they speak of "hooking up again" when the sex was shit.

Frankly, I would rather jump into a burning furnace—at least that would be more satisfying. And when they try and give you a compliment, like, "you're something special", the thought was there and it was very flattering to begin with, possibly sealing another date—or whatever it was we did—until I saw the winking face. I rolled my eyes, deleting them before depositing the fucking thing in my pocket. I pulled the door open and stormed into Esme's office.

It was empty, obviously. She had a picture of us on her desk—I was in my costume, a cheesy smile plastered on my face. She had her arm thrown over my shoulder with a smug grin. I frowned and sighed at it before grabbing the post-it pad from beside her laptop.

I wrote a quick message.

_Feeling pretty sick. Going home. Get Jess to replace me for the rest of the night. _

_Will talk when you get home._

_Sorry about the short notice._

_-B_

I threw the pen aside and stuck the note on the glass of her door—on the outside, so she was sure to see it when she went and got her things at the end of the night, or if she decided to look for me. I exited the door swiftly, clambering down the staircase in a hasty bid to get out of this place. Instead of feeling nice and familiar, it felt suffocating and fearsome. I was breathing heavy by the time I got to my car.

I felt sick—really sick, as if something big was about to happen. I was never one for the gut-feelings, they were stupid and unreliable bodily functions. But I couldn't help but pant and fumble for my keys as I made a quick attempt at getting in my SUV.

I peeled out of the parking garage and made my way home, barely able to see through the god damned tears.

EPOV

I slowly sauntered through the crowd, the lights pulsing hypnotically overhead. I made the mistake of taking a deep breath. It smelled funky in here. I took a glimpse of who was on stage. Lauren. I cringed, unable to help it. She may be...slightly polite to me—better than Bella at least—but she was just so...Ew. And as a dude with a respectably macho nature, there was no other way to describe her other than, Ew. She just made my skin crawl.

Not in a frightening way, but in a way that made me want to wash my hands or have shower whenever she would brush her hand over my shoulder. She could be a little bit of a tramp at times, too. Then again, I hadn't caught her in the basement with a guy she just met.

Why couldn't I get over that? _You know why._ I flinched at the voice in my head.

I seriously needed to consider Valium or Xanax. I wasn't getting much sleep as it was, maybe I was developing PTSD.

Whatever the diagnosis was, it never ended well once you started hearing voices in your head with an entirely separate stream of thought to your own. I sighed and shook my head trying to clear it. I looked over to the corner where Demetri stood, chatting with Esme over the bar.

I nodded toward him, he flicked his hand in a staccato wave. I nodded again and made my way to my spot.

On my own. The night was dying down slowly, people were obviously disappointed that Bella hadn't made another appearance. I felt a slow feeling building deep within my stomach. I was feeling guilty for making her cry. That was it. When she was called to stage, the spotlight pointed on the curtain as the audience hungrily awaited her. I didn't realise that I was subconsciously moving forward, toward the stage until I caught myself. I clasped my hands behind my back and shook my legs out a bit—sore from standing woodenly straight for too long. I sighed and watched the unmoving velvet curtain. The music started thrumming out a low, hearty rhythm.

I watched, waiting for the curtain to twitch and reveal her devilish glare. But nothing happened. The crowd was growing restless. I looked over to Esme who noticed that Bella wasn't appearing. I motioned with my head to the door and she nodded. I stalked over to it then in large, fast strides. I couldn't help my hands from shaking in anticipation. What has she done now? If she was fucking some guy in the basement again, so help me... My rage was different this time.

It felt... I shook my head, not wanting to elaborate on it. I just needed to find her—desperately.

But, so she could do her job. It was so she could do her job, not because I was worried or anything. I only felt a sprinkling of shame for stooping to her level and in the end, making her sob. I pushed the door open, slamming it behind me to be met with an empty hallway.

I opened the dressing room, being ruthless. I didn't care if she was naked in there, people were looking for her. She needed to get her as on stage—Again, nothing. I left the door hanging open and poked my head into the ladies bathroom. "Bella!" I called out and listened.

Just an echo of my voice. Emptiness. This was nothing to be concerned about.

So why was I so panicked? Because if something happened to her, it was my fault and I knew it. I ignored Esme's office, barrelling down the staircase into the basement preparing myself with balled fists. For some reason—I didn't know—it felt like I was getting ready for a fight. Well, if that be the case... There was no-one in here, either. I followed out the next door, bursting out into parking lot. Her SUV was gone. I gulped. _Fuck._ I bit down hard on my lip, my heart beating erratically in my ears. I ran frustrated hands through my hair then dropped them, turning back around to the club. As I came back into the main corridor, I was met with Esme and Rosalie.

"It's okay, she's gone home." She assured me, a strange look on her face as she stared at me. She shook her head, blinking before she held the post-it up to my eyes. I took it from her manicured fingers and read the lines in messy script. So, she just went home...because she felt "sick".

I knew it was because of me. My eyes dropped to my shoes before I handed Esme the note back, nodding curtly before fleeing back into the club. I didn't deserve to feel guilty. This was how she worked. She would get you to feel sorry for her so then it would make it okay for her to belittle people, knowing she wouldn't get ridiculed for doing so. This is how it worked with people like her. Bitter pessimists.

And it wasn't going to work on me... I hoped.

BPOV

"You had us worried for a bit there, Bell." Esme murmured from above me. I was wrapped up in the afghan that hung off the back of the sofa. I glanced up at her, craning my neck. I shrugged my shoulders and turned my face back to the television.

"Weird," she muttered under her breath. I ignored her and tried to concentrate on the creatures crawling through the desert on the discovery channel. Shark week was over—what now? I grumbled silently, curling up further to get comfortable.

"Leave the lights on," I said to Esme frantically as she shuffled over to the light switch.

She stared at me quizzically for a moment before her amused expression fell. I tucked my face into the blanket, trying to avoid a discussion where she grilled me about my past. Why else would I be so upset? I usually never let anything get to me. _Except Edward_.

I fucking hated that name—what was it, turn of the century? Fucking weird.

I sniffled and snuggled into the soft fabric, closing my eyes slightly as I trained them to the T.V. Esme cocked her head to the side but thought better about approaching me. Good. I didn't need her asking questions about my pathetic fucking break down. It was already humiliating enough as it was.

Talking about it would only add onto it. If only I didn't have to wallow anymore. If only I could be happy—if I was happy and prissy. But I thought better of that, because I'd rather be mopey and boring than like that. It would be...nice...to be...different, though. Maybe after then, people might like me...?

I pushed that needy thought aside. Esme liked me, Demetri, Felix, Rose and Jess liked me. That's all I needed. They were special to me. But before I acknowledged it, the sudden feeling to need more—to need _intimacy—_the feeling disappeared. I sighed and settled in for the night. I didn't want to face my dark, empty bedroom—not yet. The next day, around noon, when I woke up—I spoke to Esme about taking the rest of the week off. She didn't want to, afraid we would lose too many customers because of my abrupt absence. I told her it was only for a week but she said they would lose interest and might not hear of my return later on. She conceded after a while of bargaining, letting me have four days off in total. I had agreed, lucky that I had gotten that many instead of none at all. I just...needed to get myself together. I needed to re-construct my walls.

I had come so fucking close to waking Esme up in the middle of the night—well, morning, to tell her everything and beg she hold me for comfort. But that was so fucking pathetic that I wouldn't be able to live with myself afterwards. Besides, I doubted my trivial problems would seem very appealing to my mock-mum.

I spent the next half of the week biting my nails down to the quick, getting drunk off of cheap schnapps—you'd think a bar tender/club owner would have decent shit in her house? I guess not. Butterscotch wasn't that bad—but the crème de menthe was something to clean drains with, not use in cocktails or shots.

I shuddered as I took another swig. I was going to need to crack out the alcoholic mouthwash if this shit kept up. Luckily, on my second day of solitude, Esme brought home some coronas and some Southern Comfort. Thank god. I loved the So-Co. So, I drowned myself and my liver for the next two days following that. Esme had begged me each day to reconsider and come to work, promising me fucking raises and more fucking bonuses. I rolled my eyes and told her I was already well off.

I didn't need her fucking bribes, too. I denied and told her I would be there on Tuesday. By then, I hadn't gotten much better.

But at least I had my mask still on. And with my dancing to serve as a distraction, I would be alright. I tried to breathe evenly as I pulled into the underground lot. I scanned it for that Volvo and my searchings came up with no purchase. I smiled to myself. Fucking asshole wasn't here.

I swallowed deeply, still strangely nervous. Maybe it was because I was afraid I hadn't been as good at building that mask up as I thought I was. My brain had instantly rejected any scenarios it came up with where I would collapse under their penetrating stares. I was better than any of these fuckers. I could do this. My brain swished uncomfortably. I was working off the hangover from last night's bender. Esme put a hand under my elbow, steadying me before walking off ahead.

I took a deep breath before jumping at the sound of a low, throaty rumble. I spun around to watch a dark figure hunched over the bars of a motorbike, spin into the car park. They stopped in a spot right by the door—pulling their helmet off. I almost puked, I was so anxious. Bronze tousled hair appeared—Edward stood up, swinging his leg back over the bike. It was a custom made chopper—that's as much as I could say. It was...incredibly fucking badass. I guess he was being paid something modest—better than me?

I doubted it. My palms were slick with sweat as I watched him turn his back to me, not noticing I was here. I licked my dry lips. He had a layer of stubble, his eyes bright with giddy excitement. He tucked the helmet under his arm before he unzipped his leather jacket, something almost identical to the one I owned, only bigger.

I gaped. That fucker! I tried to reign in my fears. This should be easy. It was so fucking easy. So why was I cowering beside my car like a pussy?

I cleared my throat to announce my presence. His head snapped up and he searched around him, surprised and alert. He sure was a bodyguard. They got suspicious about everything. But the fact that it took him this long to notice me, proves his incompetence. I stared straight ahead, at the door instead of him. I strut past him quickly, a waft of his scent hitting me as I brushed his arm on the way. My stomach flipped uncomfortably. I needed some Pepto Bismol. And an Advil—my head was fucking killing me.

I said a small hello to Demetri who was in the basement with the stock, grabbing more crates full of beer and liquor.

I heard Edward following behind us both. All three of us climbed the stairs at the same time. I heard a muffled grunt and I assumed it was Edward, being fucking rudely impatient. I rolled my eyes and tried not to growl out a, "shut the fuck up, newbie!" But I held it in. I glanced over my shoulder as I reached the top of the stairs, Demetri was whisper-bickering with newbie. He put the crate down to rub his arm and I frowned and glared at Edward. He had an ill expression on his face—maybe he was sick.

Serves him right. He quickly averted my gaze and turned around, knocking on Esme's office door. I smiled apologetically at Demetri—that fucker was fucking with him. It seemed like he was pissing everyone off lately. Fuck head. God, I hate people, especially him. But people were a necessary and equally painful part of life.

I hated getting to know people. With my friends here, it was kind of inevitable. Anyone outside here, I wouldn't even try, really.

Jasper had been a one-off, which I would never try again. Just like Samboucca—you try it once and it makes you sick, you don't do that shit again if you can help it. I trotted into the dressing room—I was the first here—and got ready for the night. I felt a little out of the loop after not being here for a few days.

I was wondering if they were falling off the perch losing me, but I guess they didn't. Jessica walked in then and grinned at me, rushing over to give me hug. I smiled tightly but returned it. She wasn't that bad. "Hey," I said in a small, dry voice. "Thank god you're back!" she breathed. "This new chick we've got, she's unbelievable," she made a gagging motion with her finger in her mouth. "She's possibly worse than Lauren!" I snorted. "Wow, that's got to suck ass. How'd you guys manage, then?" I enquired curiously, turning to my rack for my costume.

"We almost didn't. Like I said, I'm so glad you're back. I'll actually have more of a rest in between dances!" she clapped her hands together and skipped off. I shook my head, closing the door behind her. I swivelled around with a sigh—this was going to be along night. My head still throbbed.

I grabbed my feathery number—this drove the guys wild. I hoped that would be enough to distract from the fact that I was partially incapacitated. I would never drink like _that_ again.

I doubted I had any stomach lining after last night. I groaned at the nauseated feeling in my stomach again.

I took a slow sip of water from my bottle on the table and went to change. I guess they couldn't fucking do anything right while I was gone. It was lucky I came back when I did, otherwise this business would be ruined. Our customers would get sick of the same old pairs of tits flouted about on stage. And I think they would be especially turned off by Lauren. I hadn't met this new girl yet and I doubted she was staying for much longer. Tonight was going to be rough and I knew it.

I started my first dance and made it out alive. The guys in the crowd however were ecstatic to see me dancing again.

I was glad that I hadn't lost the loyalty aspect, but it was kind of creepy when they made little posters that read

"I love you! Marry me, Bella!" Maybe we should have had stripper names. I didn't like them all knowing me by my first name. Those fuckers were crazy. Although, I guess it didn't really fucking matter. As long as they didn't know my surname they couldn't look my address up in the fucking phone book and go all stalker mode on my ass.

I was fairing quiet well throughout the night until my little confrontation with newbie. Fuck, it wasn't even a confrontation. Barely. I was getting a little sick of the fucking sweaty men drooling over my feet. I was trying to get through the rest of the night. I was out on the floor, leaning over the bar to get a bottle of vodka.

I could put it in my water bottle with no-one the wiser. That was when he approached me. "You shouldn't be out here," he warned in a hard voice, acting all superior on my ass. I scoffed and my fingers rounded the neck of my precious bottle of alcohol. "Come to mamma," I murmured, pulling back and standing up straight.

"It's not safe down here. You should be back in your dressing room. Now go." He ordered. I stared up at him incredulously.

"Don't tell me what to fucking do!" I growled, unscrewing the cap and taking a gigantic swig. He grabbed the bottle, trying to pry it away from my lips. "That's enough! Do you want to be sent home?" he sounded like a primary school teacher. I giggled a bit and his eyes widened. That was weird. I didn't giggle. I scrunched my face up and looked away, taking another big gulp. "Hey!" he called after me but I was swallowed up in the crowd, making it back to my sanctuary backstage.

And now, here I was, swaying to the beat, sweaty and mesmerized. I was breathing heavily but that was normal.

I was feeling a little fatigued and the buzzing nausea was flowing through my stomach. I stumbled a bit but righted myself. I was hungry and I realised that I had been sculling that bottle on an empty stomach. I breathed deeply, readying myself for the finale. I was strutting precariously close to the edge of the stage. I felt my body grow numb and the music faded in my ears. All I could hear was the bass, the thump, thump. I heard a scream—Esme. The crowd was whistling and cheering wildly as I lost my footing and fell into the group of men that stood before me. Blackness. Everything was black. I couldn't see a thing, but I could still hear.

One word, someone shouting it with utter conviction.

"Bella!"

***wiggles eyebrows* Yeah, so I know I'm sort of holding out on you with the whole smut department. But, well, these things take time. I need to bide that time so I can make a smutalicious next chapter *collective gasps* Next chapter, birobird? Yes, boys and girls, you heard me correctly. I shall quench your lemon-thirst next chapter. I think I speak for Edward and Bella too, when we say we've just about held out for as long as we can ;)**

**So, there we go!**

**HAPPY DAYS!**

**REVIEWS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED ;)**

**Love you guys!**

**Reviews are better than roadkill--coz that shit is nasty. **

**-birobird**


	6. Bad things

_I wanna do bad things with you._

_When you came in the air went out. And every shadow filled up with doubt. _

_I dont know who you think you are, but before the night is through. _

_I wanna do bad things with you. _

_Im the kind to sit up in his room, heart sick and eyes filled up with gloom. _

_I dont know what you've done to me but I know this much is true, _

_I wanna do bad things with you._

**_I wanna do bad things with you-Jace Everett (True Blood theme song)_**

**Hey guys, I'd like to warn ya'll smut-a-holics, that this chapter has graphic sexual content. So this is just a heads up ;) I LOVE this song ^^**

* * *

My head spun around sickeningly.

I groaned, my eyes fluttering open. Pain pierced through my skull. I wailed. What the fucking hell happened to me? "Bring her to my office!" Esme's voice ordered in a frantic tone. I wanted to roll my eyes at her but I was worried that might make me puke.

Where was I again? I wondered this to myself, but apparrantly I didn't have control over my mouth or what came out of it. "Where in the club. Bella?" Someone said in a worried voice. I frowned and squinted, trying to clear my fucking head. It was so stopped up.

The sounds around me were coming back. I could feel the bass running through my body, quivering my insides. The music was surfacing around me, the melody and the rhythm. Then the voices. The laughs the gasps and the shouts. "Get her another round!" someone hooted. "Bring the little girl here, I'll take care of her!" another guffawed. I felt like purging, but not because of my drunken stupor. Dead beats. I was still trying to breathe properly.

I felt so fucking dizzy and I knew I was still pretty fucking hammered. A door opened and I could see the dark walls of the hallway behind the stage. I frowned, puzzled. Wasn't I on stage before? That was fucked. What was happening? I then realised that I was being carried.

Huh? Who the fuck had the fucking nerve to do that? I focussed on a pair of wide, blazing green eyes. "Newbie?" I slurred. He looked straight ahead. "Did you hit your head?" he demanded stiffly. I snickered. "You look funny," I commented, not sure why I said that.

"Shit, I think she hit her head." He told someone in front of us. I turned my attention to Esme who was holding the door open. "I did not hit my head," I complained. In the back of my mind I knew I should be mega pissed off that newbie was touching me. And I should also never be in this predicament that left me utterly helpless. But did it matter? It was happening and I would rather just go with it than argue and risk spewing over everything. I was pretty close to doing that, too.

"Bella, what the fuck are you on?" Esme bellowed. I shrank back into newbie's chest—ew, I shouldn't be doing that. He was vile, but Esme looked mad. She also looked incredibly funny. "I'm just a little drunk, that's all, Es—" Hiccup "—me." I said, smiling lazily. I heard them both heave out a sigh.

"She's been fucking drinking like nothing you've seen. And she's been dancing—that's bound to make someone collapse. Has she slept a lot lately?" Edward—I mean, newbie, asked. It sounded like he knew his shit. What a douche. "I do actually know my shit, Bella. Now either shut the fuck up or tell us yourself." He growled.

I rolled my eyes but it was a wasted effort, seeing as they were closed again. I sighed, opening them and pouting. "'Kay, put me down, though." I said, blinking rapidly. He slowly, hesitantly put my feet down first, guiding the rest of my body to the couch next to Esme's desk. I plopped down in a huff.

"I'm fine," I grumbled. "I just haven't eaten. And I'm tired." I muttered, looking away from them. Being in this fucking room was sobering me up just fine. "She was downing that vodka like water," Newbie noted. Esme nodded. I turned to glare at them. "I'm right here and I can hear you," I muttered in protest.

Newbie shrugged. "We're only helping you. We needed to know whether or not you needed your fucking stomach pumped." He said in an abrasive tone, turning to storm out of the office. "Thanks for that, dick wad!" I called out after the door had slammed shut. Esme stared at me with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open. "How can you say that? He just helped you!" she chastised. I stretched out across the leather. "This is pathetic, Bella. I'm going to drive you home. If you don't pick your life up, I'm going to have to take action. And that means no job." Esme warned sternly. It was my turn to stare incredulously. "This is bullshit!" I howled.

"You can't," I swallowed, my vision going blurry for a moment. "You..." I breathed in deeply.

"No, I...you need...me..." I heaved, covering my mouth before stumbling off the couch and out of the room to the bathrooms. I heard Esme curse behind me before slamming the door shut. I made it to the sink before emptying my stomach's contents. _I'm such a fucking mess_, I sighed, running the water and taking a huge gulp before I leaned against the porcelain and stared at my reflection. The fluorescent lights weren't very flattering. My face had a sheen of sweat, my skin was flushed and blotchy.

I stumbled over drunkenly to the paper towels, pulling them out and dabbing them over my skin. I ran the water again and splashed it over my face, neck and arms to get rid of the stickiness I felt. I needed a shower, but unfortunately, we were fresh out of those. I wasn't even that drunk. I was just tired and I was drinking on an empty stomach then exercising—dancing. It wasn't the smartest combination of activities, but people made mistakes. Why was Esme so mad at me? I wondered idly.

I sighed and continued wiping the towel over my heated skin. I ran it down my chest and in my cleavage. Gross. I was pretty sweaty. I wonder how newbie could have stood to touch me. I was a mess. That prick had the nerve to pick me up—I would have been perfectly fine on my own—then to fucking yell at me when I was obviously not in the right frame of mind to converse. Fucking retard.

I growled under my breath and shook myself out. I was past the initial nausea. I just needed to breathe better. I needed to eat and I needed to sleep. I fled the bathroom then and made a bee line to the dressing room where Rosalie and the new girl were. I assumed she was the new girl, seeing as I had no idea who the fuck she was. She turned around to face me then and smiled brightly—her collagen lips turned into an unnatural and permanent pout. I frowned a little and nodded in hello. I couldn't trust my voice from not giving away how inebriated I was.

"Hi, I'm Tanya." She said, sending me a little wave. I sent her one back, smiling slightly and nodding. "I need my things," I whispered to Rosalie. "Are you okay? I saw what happened out there? Are you feeling alright?" I nodded and looked at her with pleading eyes. Just get my fucking stuff, Rose! She bit her lip then reach over to my table to grab my things. I grabbed them from her and just shrugged my jacket on, not bothering to put my normal clothes back on.

I would probably end up falling flat on my face and chipping a tooth while I tried to get my jeans on.

I snatched my bag out of her grasp and smiled tentatively at her before slowly exiting. I couldn't trust my footing either. I had a hand on the wall, guiding me back to Esme's office to wait for her. When would she choose my side instead of Newbie's?

I fucking hated Newbie.

~~~___~~~

The next day met me with a skull cracking migraine. The slightest noise would make me yelp in pain.

Esme smirked at me and made as much noise as she could while she prepared breakfast for us. I frowned at her through squinted eyes. "That's not very nice," I whispered over the table. "What was that?" she said loudly. I cringed, covering my ears and groaning a little.

"Please, Esme. I've learnt my lesson. I won't fucking do it again, okay?" I said, peeking at her through my lashes. She sighed and watched me speculatively before pursing her lips and rolling her eyes. "Fine. Do _not_ let it happen again, Bella. And next time Edward helps you out, you better fucking say thank you." She added in her motherly tone. I fought the urge to gag or scoff. Instead I nodded my head and sculled down a pitcher of water. Esme was very lenient with me today.

She let me go in later so I could sleep off the hangover. I popped about three Tylenol before driving to work—as well as my pill. After the Jasper fiasco, I felt like being prepared. And, besides, if I was getting so pent up with sexual tension, I needed a release. I reconsidered Jasper for that role, too. I texted him before I left home.

_What are you up to tonight?_

_-Bella_

I was dressed in a pair of dark blue skinny jeans and a violet blouse.

My heeled feet carried me to my car, my headache was dull. I drove to work with my sunnies on even though it was late afternoon. I parked in my usual spot. Instead of feeling an intense pang of malice, I only felt guilty once I spotted that fucking custom chopper.

I sighed, and locked my car. I strolled in casually, trying to forget what an ass I was the previous night. My shoulders were hunched and I was trying to go incognito. I didn't want to be stopped or approached by some nosy fucker who wanted to be filled in on my tirade last night. I was drunk. It fucking happens every day. I'm sure newbie wasn't the fucking angel that Esme thought the shit-eater was. I breathed slowly and deeply before entering my abode—the dressing room.

I was the first here, again. I wish I could just rewind and do it over again. But like I had previous experienced, that shit never fucking happened. I would never get do overs. But, maybe if I did, I could avoid bad situations. I could have...I could have stopped my father's death...? Maybe if I told him not to go to work that night...? _What the fuck do you think you're doing?_ My mind scolded me. I was fucking crazy and masochistic if I was going to start delving into painful memories.

It has been four years for fuck's sake. I wasn't going to screw this shit up because I got all fucking depressed again. I sighed and searched for my outfit tonight. I settled on a wispy, red number. It was like a dress, but it was tight—the stuff that ballroom dancers wore when they did quick dances. It was tight and clingy, but it also had odd bits of soft fabric that hung off of the sleeves and the thighs. I smiled triumphantly. It looked pretty damn good. Tonight was the night I reform last night's performance.

I would make them happy to see me. I would not be collapsing on stage again. I would not be puking in my boss's office. I will _not_ let newbie fucking carry my limp body down the corridors. That was just the most ridiculous of them all. I studied myself in the mirror for a few moments.

I applied makeup then I stared. I frowned as I watched her. I didn't like who I saw.

EPOV

I got to finally ride my bike. No more driving that pussy little Volvo to my job as a body guard. I had my fucking bike and that might make me a little more sane if I had to put up with the stone queen today. I rumbled into the parking lot and stopped in the park just next to the door. I thought I was alone until I heard someone clear their throat after I had removed my helmet. My head snapped toward the sound. I frowned and then I saw her. She stalked past me in a huff of smugness.

I sighed and muttered curses to myself. Obviously, I had had no effect on her whatsoever. I had been stewing in self-inflicted guilt for the past four days over her and she was back to the same evil bitch she was last week. But as she passed, she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye and I saw fear.

Fear? Maybe I hadn't been totally fruitless in my attempt to break her. I groaned in defeat, following her inside.

Demetri was behind her, climbing the stairs with crate full of supplies for the bar. He paused for a moment to whisper something to me. I thought he was going to make a joke or some shit about liquor—he was a funny mother fucker. But instead, he mentioned Bella. "Tight little ass she's got.

Like to pound that all night," he winked and motioned to her retreating exterior that swung subtly as she moved each leg. I had to fucking admit, he was right. It didn't fucking matter that he thought the same. I shouldn't even care. My natural response would have been, "Yeah, you're fucking right, buddy." But something was seriously fucked up inside me. Maybe it was that small display of fear and vulnerability she had shown before and when she cried, but I couldn't help my next actions.

My blood boiled and I felt a strange pang of anger/protectiveness when he spoke of her so provocatively. I mean, she's a fucking stripper for Christ's sake. Why the fuck was I defending her? And why would I do what I'm about to? I had no fucking idea. It scared the living shit out of me, too. I fisted my hand and punched him in the arm—hard.

What the fuck had gotten into me, I didn't know. Maybe I had food poisoning and I was acting violent because I was hallucinating or some shit.

Whatever the cause, it was fucked. I stared at Demetri like he had the plague. Bella stopped in front of us, glaring at me accusingly and frowning confused at Demetri. She thought he was some gentlemen. I couldn't say that I was one, either. But I wasn't as crass as him. I had some level of maturity and sophistication. I stared at my clenched fist, glanced at Bella and felt sick. I had actually defended her. I gulped loudly and turned, scampering my pussy-ass off into Esme's office to hide. I didn't come out for a while.

Esme was on the bar already, it seemed. She wasn't in here. I scoured the room for something to do while I waited. I knew Demetri would be back and I didn't want to risk a confrontation with him. I sighed and slowly strolled around the room. I glanced at the framed pictures on the wooden desktop.

There was one of Bella and Esme together. They had their arms wrapped around each other. I could tell she looked moderately happy—but there was still something missing. Like she lacked a soul. I sighed and thought I had better get out of here. I was being rude, intruding on Esme's private space without an invitation.

I poked my head out of the door—the coast was clear. I briskly made my way onto the floor, ordering a shot of bourbon from Esme to get the night started.

It burned down my throat and I welcomed the sensation. This was going to be a long fucking night. And I wasn't wrong.

I had tried to stop Bella from drinking that whole bottle of fucking vodka she took from the bar while Esme wasn't looking.

She was a stubborn as a mule and wouldn't give it to me. I had been concerned in the first place because as unaware as she might be to her surroundings, there were men in here who could more than likely snatch her up and drag her outside. I doubted they would get past Felix on the door, but what about the bathrooms?

The music was so loud in here that no-one would be able to hear her scream. A fight could break out again if someone tried to frisk her or touch her—then she'd be in the middle of it. But no, she took the bottle anyway, but took off to where she was meant to be—backstage. She was on stage again, dancing.

It put everyone in a trance and I was fucking pissed and resentful to admit it, but it had the same effect on me and I could barely contain the hard on I had from it. Fucking stupid, traitor cock. I had growled under my breath, this wasn't fucking fair. Then she started to stumble and I frowned. Oh great, she was fucking blind drunk. And then...she fell. Esme screamed and the crowd erupted into yells and whistles. "Bella!" I shouted out of habit. Well, no, it wasn't habit. What was it then?

Instinct? It just slipped out. Some were in concern, others were just as crude and suggestive as usual.

I suppressed the stupid fucking protective feeling that emerged when I started racing toward the stage. She was lost between a group of men—suited men. I panicked. I panicked and I took a swing at one. Lucikly, Esme didn't seem to care. The guy was being an asshole anyway.

"Get out of my fucking way!" I barked, pushing in between their packed bodies. They had their hands all over her body, touching her in awe. They were drunk, too. Someone would have given them the excuse that they didn't know what they were doing. They knew what they were fucking doing. It pissed me off to no end. So, I whipped my hand forward, striking one across the face. He stumbled backward, making space for me to get to Bella's limp form.

Once I reached her she was partially conscious, slurring words and questions.

I tried to reassure her. I took her to Esme's office, under Esme's orders. Then she had to be an ungrateful cow. I carefully set her down on her feet and kept one hand on the small of her back as I sat her down on the couch. Esme and I shared a look that said, "what the fuck are we going to do with her?" I wanted to take her to hospital in case she had a concussion.

I didn't know if she hit her head—she told us no. But if you hit your head while you were drunk, would you always be aware if you did or not? She started slurring out words with a lazy smile across her plastered face. I rolled my eyes in disgust. She wasn't hurt so it was easy to be pissed off again instead of worried—feeling anything but hatred for Bella was...wrong. It was just...not possible. Feeling concern also drained my energy. By the time I left that office in a huff of anger after she called me a dick wad, I was fine with feeling nothing but hostility toward her. I was fine with that. In fact, I was better than fine. I was fantastic. My mouth felt dry and I could still smell Bella on my clothes.

I shuddered and then felt completely disgusted with myself. I strut back to my spot near the bar and stood straight with my hands clasped together in front of me. I went back to doing my job—the job I was good at, by the way, no matter what Bella Swan has to fucking say about it. I scanned over the crowd periodically.

I let my eyes stray up to the stage where it was Rosalie's turn to dance. She started of slow and sensual, spinning expertly around that pole.

I watched and watched—and no hard-on appeared. I was proud of myself. I could control this shit. I watched Jessica—nothing. I was so happy with myself that I failed to see the hidden reason behind it. As I watched the new girl—Tanya—begin her dance.

I thought for sure that I wouldn't be able to hold it back this time. But then, even after ten minutes...nothing. I was getting worried. Instead of mulling over this, I went back to watching the audience. All disgustingly sweaty, middle-aged men.

And there it was again—that nagging sense. It kept telling me to pop every one of these fuckers in the jaw. I frowned and shook myself out. Strange, strange thoughts. The next day I got ready for work, I was thinking about the previous night. She had gotten fucking drunk and tried to dance—that was like the ultimate party faux pas. You never got up and danced after drinking. She must have been off her nut. It was mid-afternoon and I had to be at Blood Moon soon.

I was, for some reason, nervous about going tonight. It was stupid. I had been curious as to what condition Bella was in now. I hoped she had the shittiest fucking headache. But was that really why I was so curious? I tried not to think about _that_ too much. Instead, my thoughts drifted back to her dancing. She may have been drunk and the last part of her dance failing, but she was exceptionally good through the first part. I thought of how she was so hypnotising.

The draw of her body, the way she swayed, moved her hips... Then the beads of sweat running down her neck. Her skin shimmering under the lights, her eyes closed and her hair flowing in thick, mahogany curls... My eyes snapped open and I glanced down.

"What the fuck?" I asked my cock—who was, apparently, liking my fucking reminiscing. "What are you loyal to that bitch now?" I demanded. I groaned—I couldn't go to work like this. I was hot and bothered over a woman I loathed. _Cause that was normal and everything._ I sighed and went to take a second shower. So, I could still get a hard-on, that much was fucking clear. I just couldn't get one for anyone but Bella. Now, why would the universe be that cruel?

What had I done wrong? It wasn't fucking fair. I spent a good ten minutes in there, stroking myself in a hope to rid those thoughts and images from my head. It was so beyond fucked. I decided it was because of the whole sex drought thing. Thats what it came down to, really. That just didn't explain why it was Bella I was getting the raging erections for. That part was still unclear and increasingly annoying. But I didn't think too hard about it—worried about what I might realise. I drove to work on my bike again, I could give the car back to Alice now—she should enjoy having her car back. That was mostly what had been really fucking humiliating about driving that car. It belonged to my sister.

How degrading. And what a way to nurse your wounded ego than to drive this beast?

I swung my leg over the leather seat, grabbing the shiny, chrome handle bars and kicking down to start it up. It roared beneath me and I smirked, pushing out of my park in my building's lot and turning out onto the street. When I arrived at work, I decided to make amends with Demetri and apologise for the punch in the arm.

But the fucker didn't make it easy. I helped him re-stock the bar while Esme did the payroll in her office. The lights were dim and the music hadn't started so I assumed that Eric wasn't here yet. I had gotten into a fairly comfortable routine when it came to this place. I was used to it now—well, I was used to most of it, except for one thing. But I didn't want to think about her. I focussed my full attention on Demetri who had finished stashing the bottles of expensive liquor in the glass shelves and began methodically wiping the glasses on the cleaning rack. I helped him, grabbing another dish cloth.

This wasn't part of my job, nor was it part of Demetri's but he seemed content do so. "Look, I'm sorry about yesterday..." I started. He snorted. "About what part? Punching me in the arm or threatening me to stay away from Bella?"

"What? I didn't say that! Did I?" I asked. I wasn't so fucking sure anymore. He laughed at my dumbfounded expression. "Got yah!" he chuckled and I punched him in the arm again.

"Nah, man. It's cool. I don't blame you for getting territorial. If you want her, take her. But she doesn't like you that much. Let me just say, she hasn't had a boyfriend since she was in high school." He smirked and winked conspiratorially. I fought very, very hard not to smack him around for being such a douche. But I contemplated this new information. I had deduced that she was not a virgin—I stopped myself short. Who the fuck cared if she was? I didn't! I didn't care! I sighed and threw the towel down. Demetri watched me with a frown on his face—he tried to ask me what was wrong but I ignored him and took off backstage.

I hesitated by the dressing room door. Maybe I should talk to her, give her the chance to apologise? But if I was being honest with myself—it was to just see her. Which was completely fucking insane. And I was also lying to myself and refusing to believe my real motivations. I meandered around, biting my lip and pacing a bit before I reluctantly knocked on the door. No-one answered so I walked in to investigate.

There stood Bella in her costume, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Anyone would think it was a very vain thing to do. But anyone wouldn't have been able to see the emotions flickering in her eyes. Mostly disgust and hatred—she hasn't even seen me yet.

I cleared my throat like she had the night before in the parking lot. Her eyes flicked to me and became incredulous, lacing with a fierce defensiveness. She turned to me with a scowl on her face, about to erupt in a tirade of unwelcome. I held up my hands in a peace-making sign. I took a few steps forward and stopped at what looked to be the safe distance between us. She stared up at my eyes hesitantly. I stared back, bewildered. She had no mask on...no armour...no walls.

Nothing. She was vulnerable and she hadn't bothered with the bullshit around me. "What the fuck are you staring at? What do you want, newbie?" she demanded, snapping me out of my reverie. I sighed, gritting my teeth shaking my head to loosen up a little. My anger was like a coil and it was compressing tightly whenever I was around her. "I just wanted to know how you were after that sad little show you put on last night." I said, matching her acidic tone.

This was becoming like a game now. I wondered if she had the ability to make _me_ cry. I doubted anyone could make me cry, but a bitch this tough? Who knew. She glowered at my chest before breathing heavily. She chuckled darkly before speaking again. "You know, if you have no-one but me to pick on, _you're _the sad fucker." She retorted.

I narrowed my eyes. "And here it goes again. Why couldn't you just be fucking civil to me?" I asked incredulously. She widened her eyes. "_YOU _came in_ HERE!"_ she snarled, leaning forward. She couldn't intimidate well. "Well you fucking started it!" I growled back. "Grow a pair, Edward. Just go and fucking grow a pair!" I scoffed.

"Like you have?" I quipped. Her eyes blazed.

"At least I'm not a little pussy bitch who runs to Esme every time I get upset." "When do you ever get upset? You don't have a fucking heart in that chest of yours. You're fucking made of stone!" She gasped quietly and looked away. I was about to apologise—that was a bit harsh. But she threw those plans away when she responded.

"Fuck you, Cullen. Go and get fucked. Because I fucking hate you," She stepped forward, poking her finger to my chest. She poked it again. "Fuck yourself and go fuck off!" She poked my chest to emphasise her words. She pulled her arm back to poke me again but I caught her around the wrist. "Don't fucking touch me," she hissed. I didn't let go. It was like I wasn't controlling my own body anymore. We were in such close proximity. I could see it buried in her eyes, too. We stood motionless. My breathing had picked up and I realised hers was too. She tried to jerk away again, with less effort this time. I still wouldn't let her hand go. I had had enough. "I've had enough," I growled. She glared, panting.

"I told you to get fucked, Cullen. Go and fuck yourself," she barked, I grabbed her by the back of the head, fisting my hand in her hair and pulling her lips to mine.

She growled and cursed against my lips—but she was responding.

I was straining painfully against these fucking jeans. I pushed her roughly onto her table, grabbing her legs so she was sitting atop the wood. Everything that was there was pushed aside or fell off entirely. She hooked her arms around my neck, tugging painfully at my hair.

"You bitch," I sneered. We broke apart long enough for her to scratch her nails down my chest.

I grabbed her hair again roughly and crushed my lips to hers. She elicited a moan which only made my cock throb harder. I groaned. "You want me to fuck off?" I asked mockingly. "Fuck you!" she breathed, her eyes closed. She opened them and pulled her hand back, slapping me. I hissed, my hands moving from her hair to her knees.

I spread them apart to stand between them. Her hand moved down to my crotch where it was getting too fucking painful. I needed to be inside her. I needed to feel her tight hotness around my cock. She squeezed her hand and I jerked a little. "You're gonna use this? You're gonna fuck me?" she taunted. My hands pulled at the red cloth that covered her up. I tore it. The fabric came apart under my fingers. I revealed her breasts, puckered nipples. I growled, taking one in my mouth while she cupped my crotch with one hand and tugged my hair by the roots with the other. "Why don't you grow a fucking dick to fuck me with," she chided. "Stop being such a fucking bitch, open your legs for me.

I want to fuck you till you can't walk," I snarled, tearing more of the fabric away. I took in her naked body before me, shreds of red material still hanging off her arms. Her fingernails dug into my back, she scratched them down my sides, bringing them to the front before unzipping my jacket and pulling it down my arms.

She grabbed the hem of my cotton t-shirt, thrusting it upwards and over my head within a split-second. "You better not have torn my shirt, you fucking whore!" I hissed, pressing my face to the crook of her neck. I bit down on the skin there and she whimpered and moaned with pleasure.

"You fucking tore _my_ clothes, prick." She snapped. "They don't grow on fucking trees!" she said as she unbuttoned my jeans. She pushed them down with the heels of her shoes. "You're going to fucking enjoy this," I panted in a husky, lust-filled voice. Who was I? I didn't know anymore. I didn't really care, either.

"I bet I won't. Cock-less bastard," she jabbed. "I bet you can't fuck me properly." She breathed. "Just shut the fuck up," I sneered. "Maybe after I've fucked your brains out you won't be such a fucking whore. Maybe a good fuck is what you need." She grasped my shaft firmly and I let out a low grumble.

My fingers moved up her creamy thighs to her panties. My fingers encountered lace—and upon sighting, white lace. I groaned deeply before throwing them to the floor. She wrapped her legs around my torso, her stilettos digging into my ass. I took her mouth with mine, plunging my tongue into hers. She bit my lip then and I tugged her head back forcefully. I was being pretty rough. Her fingers slid up my bare arms, curling around my biceps. Her nails dug in so deep that I was sure to be bleeding.

I dragged my tongue down her neck, between her breasts before I stopped on one peak, taking it in my mouth and biting down.

She cried out but instead of pushing me away, she brought my face closer. Every movement was desperate and fuck-hungry.

My cock was practically begging me to just do it. I skimmed my fingers over her folds—slick with moisture. She grabbed my hand and guided it inside further. She gasped and moaned as my fingers curled inside her wet core. I couldn't take it anymore. She was too warm, too tight, too wet.

I pulled my fingers back, grabbing her ass and pulling her closer to me and plunging my cock inside her. I grunted like a fucking animal. She clenched around me, shocked before she breathed out a moan, burying her face into my shoulder. Her hands moved behind her, leaning against the table to brace herself.

I hitched her legs higher around my waist and thrust deeper. She bit down on her lip, closing her eyes and breathing heavily.

She was so tight and hot. I groaned, about to fully fucking lose it after only a few moments inside her pussy. I rammed into her again and again. The table rocked and hit the wall, thumping noises reverberated throughout the room. My hands were grasping her hips, pushing her onto my cock. I pumped harder, using my fingers to massage her clit—she would get a fucking orgasm. She would be fucked the right fucking way. And would be the one to do it.

"You like that? Am I fucking you right?" I asked in a hiss. She opened her eyes, trying to glare at me as I kept moving in and out of her, pulling out then plunging deep, all the way.

The movement was making her tits wobble and that only made me more aroused. The sight of her like this, sat on top of her vanity table in her dressing room with the door unlocked—while I fucked the ever loving shit out of her. My hands moved to her waist, grabbing at the skin there. She would probably have bruises.

I was being unnecessarily rough but I couldn't find it in me to stop. I pushed into her again and again, over and over. I massaged her slick clit with my thumb. Her breaths were growing shorter and I could feel she was close, she was beginning to tighten around me. She pulled her hands in front of her, nails digging into my hips and then my ass, plunging me as far as I would go. She gasped, her eyes bulging out of their sockets. She groaned and whimpered as she shuddered and convulsed.

That was what broke me. She tightened and clenched around my aching cock—sending me into a fucking orgasmic frenzy. I blew my load inside her as she rocked against my hips once more. She had her eyes closed, she had a light sheen of sweat over her forehead, her bottom lip sucked between her teeth.

I knelt down before her, loosening her legs around my waist. I kept her legs spread open and ran my tongue over her entrance.

"Now I'm going to clean up your fucking cum, the cum I gave you. Did you like being fucked? I bet I was a better fuck than you've had, you're so fucking tight," she panted, trying to sit up and stare at me as I sucked and nibbled, running my tongue up and down her slit. She mumbled incomprehensibly, and I smiled victoriously, cleaning her up before grabbing her around the waist and running my tongue over her bottom lip. She licked it, tasting herself and me. She stared up at me, her chest rising and falling.

A warm, red flush crept across her cheeks. Since when did the stone queen blush? That's when I fully gauged my actions. I had fucked Bella. I had fucked her hard—in the fucking dressing room.

I had fucked the stone queen?

* * *

**Okay, *turns cold faucet off* are we good with that? Goodo. I hoped you liked it ;) Anywho, I am just so surprised that I got this chapter nailed out of my brain within hours of the last one. I really do treat you guys too well.**

**LOL**

**All i ask is for reviews!**

***kisses***


	7. Tangible

**Sorry for the lat update, I know you guys are used to me giving more chapters alot more frequently. So, I hope you enjoy the next installment. :)**

**Oh and dude, I get this angry little review for Indecent Affairs. I say in one line while she is having a makeout session with Edward that she is totally under his spell right and I quote "Heck, I'd murder a litter of puppies if he told me to." Yeah, the person in question did not particularly care for that line. Nor was I condoning violence against animals--no way. I own doggies myself and I'd hate to see that actually happen. The thing is...it was a fanfic--an exaggeration, if you will.**

**Jeesh, chill out. I got totally abused over it. But oh well, thats just one person who's ever had a problem with it.**

**I'd like to give a shoutout to BeanFlikn247--you rock, gurrl! Um, labeano2002. Haha, I laughed so hard at your review. I mean, reading smutty fic at work? That's just...genius and totally what I would do if I had the internet on my phone. LOL. **

**You guys should totally go read Living Backwards by ciaobella27--fucking excellent, dry humour, sarcastic, clever. Awesomeness in 17 chapters. Anxiously awaiting the next. I am also impatient for the next chappie of Buried in the Bergonias by Durtynelly--dude, I'm dying over here!**

**I have a paramore song stuck in my head--one from their new album which is pretty good, if you ask me. **

My face was burning with such ferocity, I thought I might pass out.

_What the jesus? How...he just...is that what an orgasm feels like? Holy fuck! Oh my god, THIS is what I've been missing? He just...he...big cock...inside me...mmm..._ I tried to keep a composed expression as he pulled away from me, grabbing his boxers and jeans that were around his ankles. He quickly pulled them up, his face stone hard. Ugh, newbie. If he was going to get all fucking sentimental on me, Jesus, just kill me now.

I was panting hard from that...assault—fucking wonderful assault.

He glanced around the room, avoiding my gaze as he searched for his shirt and his jacket. He picked them up, pulling his shirt on and shrugging into his leather jacket. I watched, completely taken-aback and wondering how the fuck everything had just happened.

He had a funny, pained expression. Oh, I hoped he fucked girls on a regular basis—I hoped he wouldn't grow attached to me just because I was his first decent fuck in too long. This was nothing. This was a mistake—a fucking delicious mistake—that would definitely never happen again.

I felt pretty adequately satiated. My cock-hunger had been taken care of for about...the next year and a half.

How fantastic. I might have to actually thank newbie for that. He glanced at me once, opening his mouth to say something before closing it and hastily exiting the room, slamming the door behind him. My brows furrowed in confusion. My lungs were aching and my chest was constricting painfully.

I wondered why, but just pinned it down to breathing so fucking hard. He had also been right—he promised he would fuck me good and like no other man has fucked me before. Well, he must be god damned prophetic. Because the shit he just wrecked upon my body surely wasn't ordinary or like anything I had fucking experienced before.

I licked my lips and slowly lowered myself off of the quaking vanity table. I was slick between the thighs which didn't bother me in the least, somehow. I took a deep, steadying breath, blinking my eyes furiously and shaking my head—that seemed the best idea so far. My lips were swollen and tender, so was my crotch but that wasn't in a bad way.

I turned to check out my profile in the mirror. I was a blotchy fucking mess but I felt fucking fabulous. I was surprised to see a small smile on my face—not a typical smirk that I expected to be marked with, just a small, innocent smile. I dismissed this night as quickly as it happened, deciding that was the best idea to forget about it. Newbie certainly wouldn't care for it, either. He was probably just as sexually frustrated as I had been in that moment. The closest vagina was attached to my body and it all went easily from there.

The dirty talk had been un-fucking-believable. I never realised I could get off on that shit. I quickly slapped my cheek, trying to change my train of thought.

I proceeded to peel off the hanging red fabric, discarding it into the trash before picking another outfit to wear tonight. The real night hadn't even started and I had already needed a costume change. Dude. In retrospect, none of that should have happened—ever. I didn't think it over and now came the awkward stage—the stealing of nervous glances and instances of buzzing silence. I groaned. I hoped we could go back to seething detestable tormenting. That was easier than trying to be nice.

I just...didn't have the time or energy. Besides, Newbie had pretty much just taken advantage of me in my fragile state.

He was a bastard, a conniving bastard if I ever saw one. I wavered from my resolve...I wouldn't forget about this.

I would remember it for when I needed to use it against him. He would be the screw up who fucked the dancer—the poor, innocent, virginal dancer. Well, scratch the virginal part.

I squeezed into my tight-fitting attire and strut from the room, leaving my shameful disdain about that whole...encounter...behind with my tattered red dress.

~~~___~~~

Today was one of my bad days. I was feeling deeply depressed, in a hole of despair and disparage.

No-one could salvage me while I was in one of these moods. Not even my old friend, Vodka. I just wanted to curl up in a hole or corner and bleed everything out. I'd rather that then go one more minute with this...agony. It wasn't visible, not on the outside.

I knew Esme noticed when I walked out of my bedroom before getting ready for work. I think something had triggered it—some fucking catalyst that drove me into this guilt-ridden insomnia/depression. I was losing more and more sleep. It had slowly been building for the past week.

I had had certain episodes like these before—not often, but they had happened. I buried them away, deep in the recesses of my mind so I never had to look at them. Like burying secrets or burying ugly clothes in the back of your closet. You kept them there so no-one, not even yourself, especially not your friends or family—could see them.

I was gradually spiralling downward into this dark version of myself—which was pretty fucking dark, seeing as how pessimistic and cynical I was before.

I had been doing relatively well all week. I had been successful in avoiding an awkward and surely painful confrontation with newbie concerning the rabid sex we had ten days ago—which was a silver lining to this fucking pit I found myself drowning in. The past three nights I found myself waking to an empty bottle of whiskey—whiskey was not my poison, it was the only thing in the house, another reason why I thought Esme was a dyke—cradled in my arms. I hugged one close every night, glugging it down my raw, throbbing throat until I couldn't feel anymore. I was buzzed with a groggy numbness that wasn't at all pleasant, however it kept my eyes from focussing on the bigger picture.

Even though he didn't encroach on the subject, I still often felt my neck prickle as I turned to find him staring at me—Newbie.

I growled out orders for him, snapped cunning little remarks which he quickly dodged yet didn't dignify with a response.

So, I had lost my punching bag/one-time-fuck-outlet which was just fucking fantastic.

There was something mixed with my ancient pain—something longing. I knew I longed for something better—something beyond reach and that I didn't fully understand. But what I longed for...that was in an entire other stratosphere. Far beyond my eyes or brain could comprehend.

This haze between me and my own thoughts was nothing far from annoying and frustrating.

I hated being in the dark even if it was from my own mind. Then again, I was also sure that whatever it was I _did _want, I was not going to like it or see it coming. So, the numbness paid off for a while. As I got ready for dancing each night, Rosalie, Jess and Lauren all babbling animatedly around me while I sat mute in my chair in front of the mirror—I thought about Charlie. I thought about Charlie and I thought about Renee—then inevitably, Phil, too.

I almost fisted the reflective glass when I thought about _him._ I remembered seeing myself slowly becoming the bitter person I was now—before I went to Forks. I remembered that I was broken and cynical, but I still held hope—knowing that moving away would help me find solace and peace.

I was still young and...well, hopeful. I was also fucking naive at the time. My mind kept going back to Phoenix—when I was a young teenager, living with my Mom and her new husband. He was just the 'new husband' back then. I considered him as temporary. I was stupid as well as naive.

I thought that by the time she got sick of this new fad involving men—disgustingly creepy men—it would go back to being just her and me all the time. I could go back to sleeping easy at night, knowing no-one was going to come in and... I slammed my hair brush down on the table, the wood made a cracking noise, the legs shuddering under the movement and all attention snapping to me. I breathed heavily through the red tinged haze that clouded my vision.

I rubbed at my eyes with both hands, carefully kneading my temples and closing my eyes to release those memories from my head.

I ignored Rose's stares of concern and puzzlement. I went back to combing my hair methodically, numbly. I closed my eyes and let my thoughts drift over my dance routine tonight.

I hadn't had the motivation to break in some new moves. So I was cracking out the old-school antics and going with an old routine I had devised when I first started at Blood Moon. I heard the door crack open and the click of heels. I could smell her vanilla perfume before I saw her. I refused to turn around and greet her.

I refused to talk to anyone. Tanya was in the room and she was already fluttering around—late again. I sighed, forgetting my hair, and tried to focus on my mulling. This bitch was so fucking scatterbrained. She needed a good, ripe ass kicking and I would be more than glad to serve it to her on a platter.

Not like she didn't deserve it. What she didn't know could fill a ware house. I decided to get out of there. There was too many people in the room and too many people meant that attention could be divided among whoever stayed. And _that_ meant that someone might try to talk to me.

If they wanted to live to see the next day, they wouldn't approach me now, especially in the state of mind I was in.

Hell, I was even afraid of me. The music started thumping rhythmically as I made my way down the familiar, dim corridor. I held back the searing lump in my throat and tried to keep my focus. _Step forward, lunge...step back and twist. Pirouette, head back, swing the hips and stomp._

Revising the moves in my head helped a little. But it wasn't as good of a distraction as Esme's chasers.

I sighed, longing for a fucking drink. But after that episode the other night and the small instance of unconscious stage diving, I was forbidden from drinking before performing. I thought it was a stupid rule, just like not being able to screw your co-workers. I blanched at that thought, pausing my steps for a second. That was a weird thought to have and it distracted me for a moment from my inner ramblings. But still, nothing took the edge off like a shot of liquor.

I underestimated the my appeal tonight, the early birds were already getting snappy and impatient as I neared the edge of the stage. I glanced around at the serious lack-lustre crowd. However it didn't really matter. I was in no mood for getting sticky with another stranger.

I felt an odd burning sensation in my stomach—images of bronze hair, blazing jade green eyes and hard muscled chests came into view. I coughed a little, choking on my saliva. I cupped my hand over my throat and stretched my legs out a little as I leaned up against the pole—warming up before I got started.

There wasn't many people here so I was in no hurry. They were, though. And I spent the next fifteen minutes earning some snarky 'get moving' comments. I didn't even bother to roll my eyes anymore or smile smugly at their obvious discomfort in my sluggish pace.

I felt the trepidation of reminiscing over those memories prior to the last four years settling in. It didn't ease as I got started, hooking my leg around that fucking shiny pole. It was familiar and unoffending to me usually...but for some reason it pissed me off. It just symbolised where I was and how I got here.

I came from no-where and ended up no-where again. I was in a continuous loop of nothingness and who was to blame?

I felt like blaming everyone else but me, but if I was being honest, it was all my own fault, really. I mean, no-one forced me to work here, I did it of my own volition. No-one forced me to move to Forks—well I concede on that one that Phil-the-paedophilic-fuck forced me to leave home and my mother.

I didn't like being under his constant slimy gaze. He never touched me...in that way. My blood boiled like a fucking urn when I thought about it. He did lay his hands on me though—always unpleasant, even if he wasn't beating the crap out of me. Okay, so that one couldn't be pinned on me. What else?

Charlie—I held back a choking sob, the audience wouldn't very much like it if I started a full-on breakdown, and that's not the name for a dance. Charlie could be blamed on me and I would take that blame, knowing full well how I deserved it. I always pressuring him to get to work on time—yeah, it didn't sound all that offending or justified a jail sentence. But...ultimately...it was me that killed him. I couldn't think about that shit anymore then. I breathed in shallow pants as I worked up the speed of my movements.

I stared at the back wall in consternation. My fast breathing wasn't just because of my dancing. I was hyperventilating like a nervous fucking teenager—like my former self.

I was shocked and appalled. Shocked because I thought all traces of the past Bella were long gone—shredded into non-existence, yet here she was, freaking out on stage while people watched unaware. I was appalled because I still held the insecurity and weakness of a little girl—that was inacceptable.

I tried straightening my back and getting more air in my lungs whilst simultaneously making it look like the pause had never occurred in the first place. My eyes brisked over the tables and the tall dark figure in the corner caught my eye. "Newbie," I muttered under my breath.

He stared back at me...I couldn't really read his face from back here. Luckily he couldn't read me from over there either. The last fucking thing I needed was for him to have ammunition against me. He had somehow worked out a little about me, what was underneath the facade I kept up.

The things that had happened to me behind closed doors. He had chipped at my armour and it had come tumbling down like the fucking Berlin wall or Wall street—fucking gone. I hated that that had happened. He had prodded and poked until a shred of my humanity poked free of the seams—I had cried.

I grit my teeth grudgingly as I thought about it now. Fucker. He had to pay for that—revenge with the contemplation of violence sounded awfully tempting. _I wonder if it'll lead to dirty talk again...?_ I shocked myself with my own thoughts. I frowned and mentally chastised myself. I was being a stupid fucker.

My mood was verging on a full-out massacre inducing rage. I tried to reign it in, but my eyes surreptitiously flickered over to him as he stood there in all his fucking glory like he owned the fucking place and me along with it--like when we fucked he'd tagged me like some fucking dominatrix, that shit wouldn't fly. That was bullshit, if I ever heard it. Not that he'd ever admit he felt that way—but there was some possessive air about him.

My thoughts never strayed from Newbie as I finished up this fucking routine. The crowd went fucking wild, as I thought they would. I smiled, dazzlingly, stepping down the front of the stage. I saw Newbie out of the corner of my eye—he was trying to intercept me before I made it to the bar. Fucker! I sped up as he ghosted with abnormal speed around the tables with hooting patrons sat at them. I glared at him with such fervour that his brow furrowed in confusion.

With his eyes focused on me—he stubbed his boot on a chair leg and stumbled, giving me a diversion. Well, at least the _gods_ wanted me to drink. Well, except one—but he wasn't a god...he was _newbie. _

He just looked like one. I watched as a flood of more men flowed in through the double doors, a little too many at a time. I bit my lip but strutted determinedly over to the booze. I needed the numbness and I needed it _now!_ I marched further, getting closer to my goal. I felt a harsh squeeze on my ass and I wheeled around to slap the motherfucker down. I looked up into pale blue eyes—recognition crashing over me like a mudslide. "Oh," I smiled tightly, not really interested in talking to Jasper...at all...ever. He opened his mouth to say something when out of no-where, a fucking hand collided with his mouth and he disappeared from my line of sight, only to end up on the floor.

I blinked—what the fuck? I turned to the perpetrator. "What the fuck, newbie?" I asked incredulously. I felt funny—this was the first time we had spoken since that night when he fucked me silly. My bones felt tingly just thinking about it. But I was lost in a sea of dark to even begin to ponder that night's consequences just yet. Not fully anyway. I was completely naive at this point, too. Pity I didn't notice. I glowered at Newbie for a second before bending over to help Jasper to his feet.

He was flexing his jaw and rubbing it with his palm, he scowled at Newbie, blood trickling in a gruesome line from the corner of his mouth. I sighed, taking his chin between my fingers and turning his head to get a better look. It was fucking swollen—tomorrow it will be the size of a fucking beehive.

I dropped my hand and stared back at Edward, shaking my head and shrugging.

"What was that for? You know him!" I chided. What did he have shit for brains like Lauren and Tanya, too? I thought he was at least a little more intelligent. His eyes tightened a minuscule for a moment. I narrowed my eyes at him—was he going to lie to me? "I saw someone grab your ass—assault technically," he turned his penetrating glower onto Jasper who was sullen looking to say the least.

"I take care of the situation first—ask questions later. You understand?" His mouth was a hard, thin line as he glanced between the two of us. I took a deep breath and turned away from the both of them. No way was I dealing with this much testosterone tonight. It was already too much to even look at them.

I hastily made my way to the bar, snatching a bottle—I didn't pause to look at what it was—and scurried off to the dressing room before Newbie stopped me.

~~~___~~~

I guess I was just...out of luck? "Bella! Get back here! I saw you take that fucking bottle!" Newbie bellowed from behind me. I scowled at the mirror and continued to spill the brown liquid into the shot glass. He thumped on the door again. "Get out here, now!" He ordered. Like he was my fucking pimp or something. For fucks sake, I fucked him _once!_ _Why is he banging on your door then?_ Because he was doing his job—something Esme requested was that I got no access to the fucking alcohol.

I sighed and downed the third shot. Motherfucker, that shit burned. I winced and poured another. Edward uttered low curses before I heard his retreating footsteps. I fought back the disappointed feeling of him giving up so easily. I sniffed—fine, be a push over with no fucking spine.

Before I could sip down the next one—I heard loud thuds coming closer, a deafening bang on the door which then caused the latch to pop off and the wood t swing open. Newbie caught the door with his hand, rubbing his shoulder once before stalking towards me.

I just stared, mouth wide open, eyes bewildered. "You broke the fucking door!" I accused.

Well, duh. "I know, dipshit." He muttered, grabbing the bottle from my table.

"Hey! Get your own!" I complained, reaching for it. He held it above his head and I slumped back down on my chair like a child who didn't get their toy. "Listen, I really fucking need this, okay? Just let me have it," I said, not looking at his eyes. "No, boss said, no more drinking.

At least not until you're off work," he said in a slightly softer tone. I scoffed. "Quit acting like you give a shit, newbie. I don't fucking need this, or you. Okay, so we fucked. I'll even admit that it was good. But give it a fucking rest, will you?" I demanded, huffing. He blinked, astonished before his eyes flashed with anger.

"Maybe if you let someone in instead of Jack Daniels," he waved the bottle in the air. "You might not need to get blind fucking drunk all the time. Yes, we fucked—how the fuck did that come into the conversation?" he asked, his voice raising.

I felt myself start to throb as I thought about the last time we yelled at each other in here. Stupid fucking, girly parts. "You know what? It doesn't matter, obviously. You go and fuck fucking blondie out there as soon as you can, anyway. I saw the way he looked at you." He took a moment to breathe before continuing as I watched in disbelief.

"You are so fucking afraid of people to see you. And I mean to actually see _you_, Bella," his voice became desperate and the swelling in my chest flared. I could hardly breathe. "I _know_ what it's like to hide. You're not doing yourself any favours by doing it, either. He was unshelling me...quickly. I didn't know how to stop it.

"You are this ghost of a person—you don't see or feel anything unless I'm yelling at you!" he shouted and he was exactly right. He breathed heavily, staring at me with gritted teeth. A flash of guilt crossed his features. I wanted to roll my eyes but that would make him go on further about how soulless I was. Which was undeniable and I didn't need someone to remind me again. He had his body inclined to me, once he realised this, he straightened his back, squared his shoulders and headed out the door without another word.

Newbie was just as fucked up as I was. I sighed, staring at my empty glass. He had taken the bottle away with him—looks like I'll have to swipe some more.

I sighed again, long and heavy. Maybe newbie was right. Maybe I should lay off the grog for a bit—at least until I get out of this...abyss in my brain. Maybe then I wouldn't need the booze. I especially needed it now—I suppose I could go talk with Esme or something.

I glanced around the room and stood up, heading for Esme's office.

She wasn't in there—so she must be at the bar. I bit my lip as I stood in her open door way. She might actually have some Jack Daniels in here...the good stuff. I groaned and then caved. I bet she wouldn't even miss the shit. Well, that wasn't true.

But I could always rustle some up before my next shift and replace it before she noticed. I stared at the tantalising bottle with lidded eyes. I sighed, running my finger down the neck. My personal saviour—fill me with your blazing numbness. I unscrewed the lid, throwing it over to the trash can in the corner of the room by the door.

I missed. I pulled the rim up t my lips and took one long sip. Ahh... I smacked my lips, licking my tongue over them, savouring every drop. Shouldn't let expensive liquor go to waste, right? I smiled sardonically at myself before plopping down on Esme's office chair—my eyes involuntarily drifted back to that fucking photo of her and me.

My smile fell. I pushed my legs up to the corner of the desk, propping them up on top of one another. I took another swig, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as I stared at it. I registered my reflection on the black screen of Esme's laptop. I glared at it but glanced between it and the photograph in the silver frame. I could even notice the difference between me then, and me now. I was ever-changing. I was like a fucking wilting plant.

I was getting more and more wilted as time went on. I thought I had been getting better, learning to deal or just move past it—all the shit—when it was simply eating me from the inside out. I let my legs fall to the floor, sitting up and taking the frame in my hands.

I stroked my thumb across the glass surface. My other hand gripped the neck of the bottle tighter. Dark images swirled before my eyes—like a bad fucking re-run. I expected to see old episodes of The Young and The Restless except better, but with more beatings, flashing across my vision.

My own memories, reminding me of everything I tried so hard to repress every single fucking day of my fucking life.

They reminded me there was no escape and that I was essentially drowning or suffocating in them. I couldn't breathe for a moment—I couldn't be given a spare second just to...relax. Everything had to be painful. Whether it was painfully boring or just genuinely painful. Without any volition from me, I slammed the bottle down onto the desk. It hit the edge, shattering perfectly and spraying Jack Daniels all over me and Esme's paperwork. I welcomed the sting that came with the slice up my arm.

I knew I was bleeding pretty profusely...and yet... I couldn't bring myself to find a first aid kit...or someone to get help from. Or maybe and ambulance because that shit was coming out in a fucking flood. I stood up slowly, the slow trickle of blood warming my wrist and palm as I stumbled away.

My clothes were damp, spotted with blood and reeked of booze—not because I was drunk for once. I was half-way there. No, my stumbling was just the lack of blood being kept in my body—not when there was a fucking gaping slice up my forearm from my wrist to the crease at my elbow. I could almost smile—something other than the pain I was used to feeling. Something tangible. I didn't know what I was doing or where the fuck I was going.

I ran my bloody hand across the wall—I had to hold myself up so I didn't fall in a heap on the floor.

I tried to keep a grip on my consciousness. It was all I fucking needed was to go to sleep and dream unpleasant things. But, then again...if that sleep went more permanently...? I half-closed my eyes as I staggered down the corridor towards the dressing room. _Wait—I needed more booze._ I slowly, sluggishly detoured down the opposite direction, heading towards the stairs of the basement. Bleeding and half incapacitated, I managed to get down the stair case without a fractured ankle.

I was surprised, especially when sporting these fucking heels. I leaned over a crate that came up to my waist, reaching for the open crate of vodka behind it. I used my good hand to reach it—the pain in the other one was beginning to flare.

I grasped the neck of another bottle and pulled it towards me with lavish. I tried ascending the stairs again—getting halfway before it became too much of a task. So I slumped against the wall and sunk to my ass, sitting down before taking more of the clear burning liquid down my throat. I could sleep now—loss of blood didn't matter, getting alcohol poisoning would only make it go faster...right? I hoped so.

_"Get to work now!" I begged, pushing Charlie outside the door with his hair in a mess and his jacket half off his shoulders. "But, Bells, I've got half an hour before I have to leave!" He complained. I rolled my eyes and pushed him onto the porch. "Go! Now, before you get the peak hour traffic." I reasoned. _

_He sighed and kissed my cheek affectionately before smiling and hauling off to his patrol car. "I'll see you after work." He promised._

_I'll see you after work. _

**So we delved into Bella's past a little--she's a sad little girl, isn't she?**

**Don't worry--Edward, sorry, I mean Guardward will help out with the 'taming of the shrew' and fixing her up and all that shit. But believe me when I say that this isn't a story where she's gonna bend to his will like a flexible barbie doll. **

**No sir--this Bella will gladly cut my thumbs off before she lets that happen.**

**Reviews! :D**


	8. Falter

I couldn't stand the sight of her anymore—I couldn't be near her without losing my control.

I was magnetised but also repulsed at the same time. She kept pushing me away, but still remained just as fucking alluring. It has taken all my amounts of strength the past couple of days not to fuck her again. I was shocked and confused after it happened the first time. I was fucked up after that.

I refused to acknowledge it ever happened. She also chose to remain stoic, never alleviating the roiling tension that now surrounded us every time we were in the same room. I think she didn't even notice. That was what really had me seeing red. How could she act so nonchalant?

Something had happened for fuck's sake. That's when I reminded myself that I was trying not to think about it. That task became fucking impossible, night after night of her swinging her ass in front of everyone. I mean, she was a fucking dancer, so why couldn't I stand people watching her?

Why was it so incredibly difficult to sit back and let them, those filthy, sweaty fuckers, drool over her?

She was twirling around as usual—faltering once, which I assumed only I noticed. No-one else would see, they would probably assume it was part of her routine. It made me feel like one of them, though, knowing that I knew every move of hers down to a tee and could pick out any fault if she made one.

Tonight there was something off. She had been off for the past three days, as it seemed.

She acted darker and less snappy than usual. She was still a crabby bitch—but she lacked the fiery spark that made the anger in me ignite. Lately, I found myself unable to react to her sneers. She treated me like usual—a piece of shit—yet I could see through that demeanour.

She was hurting—silently. And for some fucked up reason—I cared. I actually couldn't stand to watch.

It was painful just to witness it—her trying to act normal, well, normal for her anyway.

I sighed as I watched her finish up—all my thoughts should not be revolving around the stone queen. She glanced in my direction, catching my immediate attention in the process. I saw her lips move almost imperceptibly and I would have bet my left nut that she said something about me.

Or she cursed. Either bet is as good as the other. My fucking traitor dick just did a series of twitches as I watched her descend the stage. Why was she coming down from the front?

I frowned and watched her for a moment before her motives became clear. I narrowed my eyes and moved to stop her.

She was fucking quick, I'll give her that. "Fucking hell, Bella," I growled under my breath. I sped up my movements so I would grab a hold on her before she got her hands on some fucking Captain Morgan or something. She sure knew how to get fucked up, and if last time was anything to go by, she couldn't really hold her liquor well. Especially if she was working. She noticed me advancing quickly, she started walking faster.

I ground my teeth together, weaving through these close packed fucking tables. She looked over her shoulder at me, a fgierce glared adorning her features. I frowned—stupid bitch, I was only helping her out. Even if she didn't realise it now.

That's what I was fucking doing—because I couldn't see anything happen to her.

_Whoa, whoah, whoah, slow the fuck down, brother. _My inner monologue chided.

I huffed. Internal ramblings would get me no-where, an unwelcome side effect of the military.

Or maybe I was fucked up to begin with and that had just been a trigger...? Whatever. I stubbed my boot on someone's chair leg. I stumbled over, righting myself before I got a mouthful of sweaty man-chest. I held myself up and charged for her as she neared her destination, her hand was already outstretched. A tall blonde guy appeared behind her, tailing her. I was taller, and bigger—I could take care of this mother fucker if I had to.

I was rounding another table, coming closer when I noticed it was Jasper—the fucker who had banged Bella in the basement. The one who was obviously lacking in the sexual pleasure department. Bella had been pleasured to her fucking bones when I fucked her.

What did he want? Another go on her? She wasn't a fucking circus pony.

This fucking cowboy would have to find some other poor bitch to grind. His hand reached for her ass, squeezing her before she visibly jumped out of her skin and wheeled around. I thought for a second that she was going to hit him—but a look of recognition crossed her features.

I knew it was someone who was no threat—not really, anyway. But that didn't stop my fist from moving through the air until it connected with his pretty jaw. Take that, you Southern fucker! I let out a breath, shaking my fist slightly. Bella's voice brought me back to fucking reality though—using her highest fucking decibel. "What the fuck, newbie?" she screeched. I blinked and considered rubbing covering my ears to let her know I wasn't fucking deaf and her voice just then was like nails on a chalkboard. She stared at me for a split-second then bent over to help the sad fucker up. I acted very normal, pretending I didn't know it was Jasper who I hit.

I tried acting surprised, but for some reason, I don't think Bella seemed fooled.

And if she was, she was only showing it on the surface. I let them go then—she huffed off, storming away. I glared at Jasper—he glared back, wiping blood from his mouth. That lightened my mood and made me smirk with grim satisfaction.

Thumping music—swayed through the room hypnotically.

The sounds and lights were reverberating off the walls, I ignored Jasper, leaving him to wallow in his pathetic self-pity. I would black-label his fucking name—douche packer. When someone's name got black-labelled, it meant they would no longer have access inside the club. It was a Blood Moon tactic to customers that started to develop stalker-ish tendencies. Or anyone who had caused trouble. I would do that to Jasper's name, just cause I didn't like him—not one fucking bit.

I would have to take that up with Felix. I looked over in the direction of Bella's retreating form, a bottle clasped in her hands as she fled through the stage door. "Fuck!" I let out an exasperated breath before ploughing through the fucking crowd.

Tanya—the new dancer winked at me as I passed and I just nodded once and kept going. It was girls like her who needed my services—people who were polite and cordial to me—people who deserved it. They needed my full attention—instead, I couldn't spare them a second fucking glance, not when my mind was repeatedly fixated on the fucking stone queen—afraid she might be choking on her own drunken induced vomit.

I cursed my way down the hall before grasping the door knob to the dressing rooms. I heard a glass clinking and the slosh of liquid. "Bella! Get back here! I saw you take that fucking bottle!" I yelled, banging on the fucking wood. I didn't get a response from her either.

I rubbed my face roughly with both hands, scrubbing them over my eyes before running them back through my hair.

_You know, you shouldn't even bother. _

_That's right, I shouldn't fucking bother if she's going to act like this. It would be her own fault if she does something stupid. _

I told myself this...and yet. My feet wouldn't let me move away. Instead they took a few steps back. I cursed myself and my fucking body for not walking the fuck away while I could tonight. Little did I know, that would actually result in a much bigger scale consequence.

I shook my limbs out unconsciously.

_You're going to break down the door?_

I sighed.

_I guess I am._

Without anymore objection from my subconscious, I ran forward, crashing into the black wood, side-on. It cracked against my force—splintering down the middle and swinging open. There was a noticeable split down the middle, but I appeared to have broken the latch that held it closed. Bella jumped and stared at me like I was doing a naked cartwheel. Instead of explaining my incessant behaviour, I rubbed my shoulder, glaring at the fucking bottle she had already started.

"You broke the fucking door!" she shouted, her voice high-pitched and disbelieving as she stared wide-eyed at the damage. "I know, dip shit," I muttered before stalking forward and snatching the offending bottle of...Jack Daniels. I sighed low and throaty.

Strong fucking alcohol content, she obviously wasn't drinking it for leisurely purposes. She was drinking it because it would have the most effect. "Hey! Get your own!" she whined. I held it above my head and she slumped down in her chair defiantly but looked defeated. With a breathy sigh she almost begged for it back. "Listen, I really fucking need this, okay? Just let me have it." She reasoned in a fairly reasonable tone.

I narrowed my eyes and set my jaw.

"No. Boss said no more drinking. At least not until you're off work." I offered. But I knew that I would be hiding every drop of liquor from her if it took me all night. Pretty hard thing to do in a fucking bar. "Quit acting like you give a shit, newbie. I don't fucking need this, or you. Okay, so we fucked. I'll even admit that it was good. But give it a fucking rest, will you?" she said moodily. In spite of her obvious lack of compassion in the present moment—I couldn't help my rage from boiling over the surface.

My concern—how did she have the fucking right to question it? How the fuck would she know if I gave a shit?

Because apparently, and from no consent of me, I gave a shit about what happened to her. I gave a fucking shit load about it. I almost felt relieved about admitting it to myself—if I hadn't been so pissed off. And like I said, she had no right to say that shit. Yes, we did fuck.

Yes, it was fucking good. It was beyond fucking good. And she was right, I shouldn't care about her getting drunk or passing out. I shouldn't want to protect her from it. I shouldn't even be in here if there wasn't something wrong.

Something wrong with me. So, I let my brain filter break and I was speaking my fucking mind without any censoring. "Maybe if you let someone in instead of Jack Daniels, you might not need to get blind fucking drunk all the time." I felt the need to point out that us fucking had nothing to do with this—yet, to me it had everything to do with it.

And how it fucking irked me to know that. "Yes, we fucked—how the fuck did that come into the conversation?" I demanded, my chest heaving from exasperated panting. Instead of saying something, she just fucking stared. A small furrow creasing her brow as if she was looking down on me. "You know what? It doesn't matter, obviously.

You go and fuck fucking blondie out there as soon as you can, anyway. I saw the way he looked at you." Fucking brain filter. I need a fucking drink. I thought that now I had pretty much dug up all the words I had wanted to throw at her—why not keep going? "You are so fucking afraid of people to see you.

And I mean to actually see _you_, Bella. I _know_ what it's like to hide. You're not doing yourself any favours by doing it, either." I stressed in a desperate tone. I better wrap this up quick before I do anything rash. So, I decided to tell her how everyone was noticing how different she had been acting and how much her little facade sucked at covering it up. "You are this ghost of a person—you don't see or feel anything unless I'm yelling at you!" I gave up then—she was a brick wall.

Or maybe she was a sponge—absorbing it all and it was all too much. Either way, she wasn't fucking budging.

I turned away then. I couldn't stay there where she was so close and vulnerable. I stalked out into the hallway, taking the bottle with me.

I turned the corner so I was out of sight. I took a quick swig before taking it back to the bar where Esme waited with a worried face. I shook my head and handed her the bottle. "It's fine." I assured her with a less than assuring expression. She bit her lip and took a deep breath before going back into business mode and chatting to patrons.

I swivelled back around and decided to give her a few more moments to mull over my lecture before I went and retrieved her for her next dance.

She still had one to go. I was growing dangerously close to this fucked up chick—she was on edge and crazy as hell. What would I do if something happened? I mean, something has already happened and I can't go back and change it, either. Not that I wanted to—which is weird.

We had fucked—a phrase that I kept fucking repeating in my head—and now things were different, just like I had dreaded they would be. It felt like she was using an icepick on me—chiselling away my armour with her own emotional turmoil. It looked like she held more than just memories of happiness behind those chocolate eyes. She only seemed to respond to anger and yelling. It actually brought life into her. When being sweet and gentle didn't.

She was a backwards woman—more complicated than I had originally thought. I felt like I hated her.

She was callous and cared for nobody else but herself. But then that wasn't entirely true. I knew underneath she cared for some people—and if she didn't, she at least used to. I knew that I was slowly wearing on her armour, too. She kept breaking under the pressure I put on her.

She was straining painfully and I knew she wouldn't be able to keep this charade up for much longer.

She was either going to breathe some truth or die first. I sighed, rubbing my aching temples.

How was she doing this to me? I growled in frustration. Time was up, princess. I started toward the stage door. She should be ready now—if she wasn't sulking about getting her booze taken away from her. I was abruptly pulled to the side by Tanya. She smiled at me, grinning before pulling on the front of my jacket.

I didn't even get a chance to object before she pulled my face down to hers. I didn't want to offend her—of course she was undeniably attractive. But...still. I felt like I was already tied down to something. Like I was a balloon attached to a cinder block. And, funnily enough, I just didn't see her that way.

Her tongue caressed my lip and I tried edging back. She ran her fingers through my hair, twirling it around her fingers as she bit my lip gently. I remembered the way Bella had tugged my hair by the roots in our moment of hate-filled passion. My dick hardened at the memory and Tanya took it as an affirmative.

She smiled against my lips and pulled my body flush against hers. I broke off from her then—it didn't feel right. It felt so incredibly wrong. I was panicked about why that was, too. "Tanya, tanya...stop." I said softly, taking her hands from my hair and pushing them to her sides. She frowned, confused. I took a deep breath before I heard a loud thump and a shattering. I frowned at the direction of the basement. The door was closed...who would be down there...?

"Bella, probably. Getting fucking plastered." Tanya sneered, wrapping her arms around my waist.

I grabbed her arms roughly and pushed her off of me. She narrowed her eyes at me and I inclined my head back to the basement. "You saw her?" I enquired. Tanya shrugged. "She's fucking useless." She rolled her eyes. I had the urge to throttle her, but she was kind of telling the truth—half of it.

"No, I didn't see her. But I assume..." she trailed off. I huffed, turning away from her to investigate. I heard her laugh incredulously and mutter 'bullshit' under her breath before stalking off. I glanced at the walls—sticky with hand prints. Red hand prints on one side before sliding off entirely, a few bloody fingerprints around the knob of the basement stair case door.

I gulped and ran.

~~~___~~~

A tight knot formed in my stomach as my fingers wrapped around the brass metal door knob. I took a deep shaky breath and opened it. Pulling it open and letting my eyes adjust to the sudden dimness—I saw the lump sprawled over the stairs.

"Shit!" I hissed, jumping over Bella's limp form before kneeling on the step below her. My shoes crunched on something. Glass—the place smelled strongly of whiskey. She must have dropped the bottle. Why the fuck was she bleeding? I grabbed her face in my hands—a line of vomit trailing from the corner of her mouth.

"Bella!" I shook her roughly to get her to wake up. "Come on!" I almost shouted. "Wake up!" I ordered, panicked. I turned her face to the side and stuck my fingers in her mouth, clearing it of whatever was blocking her airway. First aid courtesy of the military training.

"I need some help!" I shouted—although I had doubts about whether anyone would hear me over the music out on the floor. "Help me!" I roared to no-one in particular. "Somebody!" I pressed my fingers to her neck, making sure she had a pulse. She did—but she was seriously fucked up.

I grasped her bloody arm. I caressed it gingerly; a huge gash ran down the length of the inside of her forearm. She was covered in blood. I placed it ontop of her stomach and tore my jacket off, pulling my shirt over my head and pressing it down on the bleeding. She groaned and stirred—thank god.

She spluttered and coughed, her body convulsing. I looked to her face—my brain was spinning and my heart was pounding.

I hadn't been this scared ever...not when I was overseas fighting with fucking deadly weapons, not knowing if I'd survive through the day. The fear for my own life was nothing then than the fucking dread I felt now. She turned her head to the side, heaving her stomach onto the staircase. I grimaced.

At least she was getting it all out. But she would definitely need to be hospitalised. I just fucking hoped she hadn't hit her head. She sighed and moaned like she was in pain. I fished in my jacket pocket with a shaking hand while the other hand held the fabric onto her arm. I flipped it open, dialling 911 because no fucker could hear my shouts for help. "911, what's your emergency?" a woman asked across the line. I was shaking and I could tell from my voice that I was extremely anxious.

"Yes, hello. I need an ambulance to the night club, Blood Moon. A girl here—she must have cut herself on some glass. And she's drunk or something. I need help. She won't wake up but she's breathing and she has a pulse. And she's lost a lot of blood." Ironically—in a place called _Blood_ Moon.

"Okay, we have some EMTs on the way. What's your name honey?" she asked softly but sternly.

"Edward. My name's Edward." I sputtered out. Who the fuck cared? I kept a vice grip on her arm—hoping that she wouldn't feel it. It must hurt like a fucking bitch. "Okay, Edward. Who have you got there?" "Her name's Bella." I answered in a tight voice. "Listen lady I don't need to chat at the moment—she needs fucking help."

"I know that, Edward. You need to keep calm." I almost rolled my eyes. Fucking typical question. I wonder if after saying that to everyone who calls 911, the people on the line actually calm down. Because when you call 911—I guarantee that you are far from fucking calm! I was breathing heavily. "Have you checked her airways?" she asked guardedly.

"Yes, they're clear. I know first aid, CPR, whatever. I was in the military." I almost growled at the daft fucking bitch. Bella made small whimpering noises and she started fucking moving. "Shit!" I hissed. "Bella? Bella, can you hear me? Open your eyes." I demanded. I was in no mood for fucking around.

"He promised," she gurgled. I put my hand behind her head, trying to sit her up. She was dead weight. "Hey," I breathed, unable to help my smile. "You need to stay awake. Keep talking, Bella." I urged. She opened her eyes—her skin was so fucking pale. I reached my fingers to her cheek, letting them graze across it. "Are you okay?" What a stupid question. She shook her head, her brow furrowing. Her lip trembled and I could see it coming. I could see her breaking from the inside out.

"Did you fall? Is this how you hurt yourself?" she shook her head. I was about to ask how she did it when a heart-wrenching sob broke through her chest. She scrunched her face up, reaching her weak hands toward her face to cover it.

"Bella," I whispered. "Bella, it's okay." I scooted closer and she let her head fall against my shoulder. I thought I had better take her to Esme's office. Somewhere where they could get a better look at her. "How much did you fucking drink?" I demanded, my previous irritation flaring as I carried her up the stairs.

Her eyes fluttered and her head bobbed like she was about to fall asleep. "I...don't..." "You don't know? Fuck Bella, what is wrong with you?" I asked, practically growling at her. Now that I knew she wasn't dead or dying I could be a little angry. I kicked the door open and held her close to my chest as I kicked Esme's office open.

I carefully laid her on the sofa. "Now, don't fucking fall asleep. Got it, Swan?" I ordered. She nodded numbly, staring at me with bewildered doe eyes. I sprinted flat out to the bar, almost taking out five people in the process. They were in my fucking way. You don't just fucking plant your fucking feet in front of someone when they're trying to get passed. I elbowed some guy in the ribs, shoving the fucker out of the way. Esme stared at me with her mouth hanging open. She thought I had gone insane.

"Edward! Where the fuck are your clothes?!" "It's Bella," I choked out. She dropped her washcloth and followed behind me. I burst back into her office where Bella lay. She was no longer conscious.

The knot formed again—only worse.

**Oh I apologise profuesly about this. I am so sorry I have been too lazy to update. You know why? You can blame 107 year old virgin and her story--Progress. That has to be the fucking funniest fic I have ever read. Jeebus. So fucking awesome. Anways. Uhh..**

**So yeah..**

**Bells is pretty fucked up aye? I know, I know--people are getting sick of her bitchiness and inability to communicate with Guardward but don't worry--this is s turning point *carresses crystal ball* Yes, my pretty. Yeeeesssss...**

**I just love the panty-dropping protectiveness that exudes from him, don't you?**

**Has anyone got any embarrassing drunken experiences to share with your beloved Birobird? I mean, I could say that I'm curious because that's what my character is going through but to be honest, I feel like laughing my head off at your shenanigans. ;)**

**Guardward is fucking fantabulous--*spreads tarot cards out across table* Hmm...yes, I see it...in the next chapter. It takes the form of...a Lemon? A lemon? Yes, Omg yes. OH YES...!! OH JESUS! EDWARD! FUUUU-- *disc skips* --And that kids, is why you caught Birobird with Edward's face bewteen her thighs. ;)**


	9. Can I get a hallelujah!

Man, was I fucking tanked.

Jesus fucking H, Christ. My head throbbed so bad—I felt faint and weak.

Esme's office spun around and tilted on all fucking angles. I felt like someone had stuck a whisk in my ear and was beating the shit out of my brain. I clenched my eyes shut and tried to make the nausea recede. Thankfully it did—however I fell into the blackness I swore to stay out of.

I was told not to go to sleep. I was told to stay awake—by Newbie. I don't know why I expected not to be found in time. I hoped no-one would find me and I could just...bleed in peace. But then he did find me. I was mad at first, not that he'd notice since I barely had the energy to keep my eyes open let alone tell him to get fucked.

But then when he brought me to a higher state of consciousness—the pain flared. The fear doubled and I was wracked with shame. I had also changed my mind. I didn't want to die. Not when someone was there. But that was only because I was vulnerable and well, it might look weak if you cark it while someone watches. I was being moved.

I could feel fingers and hands prodding at my sides then my chest and face. My neck. I frowned slightly, groaning a slurred,

"Don't fucking touch me," I tried lifting my hand up to swat them away but I couldn't. Instead I just let it fall limply to my side. My throat burned and my stomach churned with the excess alcohol I had downed within minutes. Not to mention the blood loss and what that would do to me while I was inebriated.

I couldn't get a grasp on the spinning. I needed someone to tether me down before I fucking floated away or puked again.

I felt unnaturally cold. Warm hands pressed against either side of my face. They were big, rough and firm. I sighed—a tether. Voices were muted and I couldn't make out who the fuck was talking or what they were saying either. I decided to let myself work through the haze. I couldn't force it. I could make out my name from the deluge. They were conversing above me where I lay on the sofa. At least I think it was a sofa. Wait—how did I get in here again? I tried prising my eyes open but it was so difficult to do.

I huffed out an exasperated breath and tried again. My eyelids fluttered. "She's coming to," someone noted. There was a rustling and I heard a low hissing as someone placed a mask over my mouth. I growled, batting it off. "Bella, for fuck's sake, let them put it on you." Newbie ordered from above my head.

I looked up and shook my head no. He sighed and removed his hands from my face. I felt annoyed at the loss of contact.

I needed my tether back. "Wait," I croaked. He stared down at me with frustrated confusion. "Don't move your hands," I whispered.

His brow furrowed deeper before I felt them press against my face again. I breathed deeply. My head really fucking hurt now. "She's lost a fair amount of blood but nothing too serious." I glanced up at a man that was kneeling beside me. He was a short, stocky version of Jasper. He was blonde with blue eyes—but he had a beard and a rounded, plump face. "Perfect," I muttered sarcastically. "So sew me up and send me on my way, doc?" I asked. He frowned then shook his head, stealing a glance up to Newbie as if to ask why I was acting so ungrateful. The reason was because I didn't want their fucking help. I had nothing to be grateful for. I wished so badly now that he hadn't found me.

And if he did, that he had decided to leave me there after what a bitch he found me to be. Such an easy ending, really. It should have been easy for both of us. But then the fucker had a conscience. And I doubted he would have had the nuts to let me die on the staircase. I would have let him. _No you wouldn't have. You know that._

I imagined strangling my inner voice with a piano wire. The thought almost made me smile.

"Will she have to go to hospital?" Newbie asked all professional-like. It sounded like he was discussing baseball stats. I wanted to bitch slap him. And why did he look all concerned and angry? My chest felt all warm at the sight of his affections. But I beat it down and tried to gain my stone cold heart back.

Not feeling was better than ever experiencing pain, right? I sighed—when would the fuck knuckles be finished? I would rather bathe in a fucking pit of acid than listen to them for any extended period of time. Better yet, I would listen to the fucking Jonas Brothers. That was just...butt-fucking gay-a-licious. "So she has no more need for further treatment? What should I do with her now?" he continued. Esme leaned down next to me with an apprehensive glare.

I glared back—was she going to give me shit now too? I was a fucking grown woman, brain, legs, tits and all. I could make my own decisions—and if that was to get drunk, bleed and pass out on the stairs than so fucking be it. If she didn't stop staring at me, I considered giving her a back handed slap, too.

I wouldn't hold back just because of our relationship. Or because she was a girl, either. "Make sure she drinks a lot of water. Wake her up every now and again to make sure she's alright. I didn't find any lumps or contusions so I think it's safe to say she doesn't have a concussion." He answered methodically in a boring mono-tone.

"I didn't fall. I sat down." I mumbled, rolling my eyes. The paramedic seemed to size me up with his gaze—calculating. I felt like a fucking test tube.

His eyes flickered down to the rest of my body. I would have smirked at his candid unprofessionalism. But right now I felt like puking again at the sight of this old bastard. I caught a glimpse of his name badge: Aro. Well, Aro, you old dirty prick. "Are my boobs cut up? Are they bleeding too?" I snapped. His eyes rested back on mine, full of embarrassment.

"That's what I thought," my voice gargled. Esme stroked my hair for a moment, brushing it out of my face with a grimace. Hey, it was probably damp with sweat or caked with vomit. Yum. The paramedic stood up and surveyed the area, shaking hands with Esme and Newbie before leaving the room. I was faced with the two most bastard-a-riffic people ever.

For one: Esme was not my mother, she was of no fucking blood relation. She had no claim to me or any opinion on my actions. "Give it a rest, Esme," I said under her penetrating gaze. She shifted, moving her hands to her hips and squaring her jaw. "My head hurts to fucking much." Newbie snickered humourlessly from beside her, his arms crossed over his bare chest. I tried to keep my mouth from falling open. "Give it a rest?" he repeated incredulously. "You could have fucking killed yourself?

What the fuck was going on in your fucking thick head? Are you so dense that you didn't realise how you could have died?!" he leaned forward and made angry motions with his hands as he attempted the responsibility lecture. Part of me felt guilty for letting him down like that. Him and Esme.

Why the fuck should I feel guilty about something I've done to myself? It's not like I did anything to them personally.

Jeesh. "Alright, enough, Newbie. Fuck. My head is throbbing like a motherfucker. Just...please. Leave it alone." I begged. He huffed, straightening up before Esme leaned forward. She placed a tentative hand over my forehead then trailed it down to my arm. I realised it was freshly bandaged.

"Did you..." she began, staring at my arm and not into my eyes. She looked...cautious. "Did you...do this...on purpose, Bella?" she asked, casting her eyes up to mine finally and biting her lip. I stared at her. "No," Edward let out a breath. I glanced at him and he turned away, the walls behind him suddenly very interesting.

"So...you didn't want to...die?" her voice faltered at the end and I knew she was getting all sentimental and worried on my ass. I groaned.

"Stop it, Esme. I'm fine." She nodded and wiped under her eyes. I sighed. I guess I didn't know how much it would have made her upset if something did happen to me. What a bitch I was. She stood up then, standing beside Newbie and whispering something in his ear. "I'll take her home," he whispered back. She nodded in agreement, turned and bent down to kiss me on the head before leaving the room. I narrowed my eyes up at Newbie accusingly. "Come on," he sighed in resignation.

"Fine. But if you start trying to lecture me again, don't. Because my head throbs like a mother fucker and I can't listen to you trying to play concerned co-worker." I reminded him, sitting up slightly. My stomach heaved and I clenched my eyes shut to keep the world from spinning. "I can't believe they didn't take you in," he commented in a narky tone.

I raised an eyebrow while slowly opening my eyes again. "Can't wait to get rid of me?" I said, rolling my eyes. He simply shook his head and bent down to slide his arms underneath me. "I can walk, dick weed." I chided. He nodded but didn't let go, picking me up effortlessly. I sighed and just went with it. When he stood out into the hallway, adorned with piercing fluorescent lights, I heard a deathly squeal. I squinted my eyes and gritted my teeth. Shut the fuck up, whoever you are.

"Oh my god! Is she alright?" Tanya asked breathlessly, her heels clacking down the hall to where Newbie stood with me in his arms. I peeked through my lashes at him and he shook his head. "I'm taking her home." He said bitterly. I bit my lip and glanced at Tanya's red face. She looked embarrassed.

I wonder why...? "Thanks for nothing." He snapped before turning to the basement. I couldn't help but giggle.

"Wow, Newbie. She was about to bust a nut. What happened?" He looked at me seriously for a second before ignoring it and stepping down the staircase. It smelled down here. Probably because of me. I hoped I wouldn't have to clean it up. They needed to bleach that shit.

We neared the exit, the glowing sign indicated. He managed to open the door with one hand, kick it further open and back out so he didn't hit my head on the door or the door frame. He didn't speak after that. All he did was breath. With my head next to his chest, I could hear and feel his heart beat. "Where are your keys?" he asked sharply, unfriendly. I guess I deserved that. But my mouth vomited out a snappy retort anyway. "Up your ass," I sneered.

He rolled his eyes and stalked to my jeep. He leaned down and sat me on the stone cold pavement.

I gasped and hissed, feeling the nausea and searing of the gash start to come back. Funny how whenever he held me it sort of...faded away. Fuck this. I grumbled silently as he stalked off back towards the club—in search for my keys and bag, I presumed. I sat there in the dank parking lot, growing a bit nervous.

I felt the darkness. It was pulling at my chest, beckoning me to follow and to just...give up. It would be so easy.

I could find another piece of glass. I could... I tried to snap myself out of it. That was some fucked up train of thought. I tried breathing deeply, my chest tightening and my heart speeding up. I curled my fingers into my hair and pulled at it. I was shaking and a gasping for the air that wouldn't come.

A sharp bang sounded from behind my car. I screamed and jerked backwards, knocking my already tender head on the pole I sat in front of. I hissed, reaching my hand back to rub it while I scanned the area. Footsteps. I whirled around, trying to get a look through the gaps in the cars to see if anyone was out here. But my head wouldn't agree to that, giving me a choking sense of nausea as I tilted my face to the side. I groaned and slowly straightened up before slumping back against the concrete pillar. My eyes darted around nervously, beads of sweat dewed up on my forehead and neck. My hair stuck to my damp skin and I could hardly get a hold of myself.

I felt so fucking afraid that I felt like crying again. I felt like crying about everything. More footsteps, getting closer.

I held my breath. I saw feet moving under the car. A shadow of darkness appeared before the actual person.

I let out a gurgled scream, shuddering violently. The shadow backed up, worried about being caught, I assumed. The basement door flew open, revealing a vengeful-looking Newbie. His eyes flashed wildly—he reminded me of a ferocious lion. One that found a hunter messing with a member of his pride.

But an equal to him, I did not see myself as in that moment. I felt like lamb in a lion's costume, pretending to be a part of it. Or maybe just the lion's food. Something that looked like he didn't want to share. I shrank back against the pillar as Newbie raced forward, his feet hitting the ground with speedy succession. I didn't see what the guy looked like—but he was running away fast. I watched as Newbie took flight, pumping his legs harder.

"Hey!" he barked out. "Hey!" I couldn't move. The footsteps faded then became louder again. I squeaked when they rounded the back of my SUV—but then I realised it was Newbie. He was panting slightly, his chest heaving. He had thrown his jacket on over his naked torso.

I had managed to calm down enough to lick my lips in appreciation. He stood beside me then crouched, looking into my eyes. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" he asked in a gravelly tone—he sounded exhausted. I shook my head no. He didn't hurt me and I felt suddenly warm and safe. He ran frustrated hands through his hair then stretched his arms toward me to help me up. He put one arm behind my shoulders, I tried gaining the feeling back in my numb legs.

He pretty much supported all my weight because I was just fucked. With a grunt and shove, he lifted me up into the cab and pulled my seatbelt on. I held back a gasp. I do have a personal space, tool brain. Maybe you should look it up. Or maybe I should start saying those things instead of thinking them to myself where they cannot possibly be of any use. "Are you okay? You look like you're angry at something." "Huh?" I slurred, eyes half-closed.

I shook my head, rubbing it with my fingers before sighing and facing the windshield. "If you're gonna play hero, Newbie, just get it the fuck over with. Take me home." I mumbled. He rolled his eyes and turned the key in the ignition. I laid my head back against the rest and closed my eyes. "Did you get a look at him?" he enquired casually—as if he were a cop talking to a witness. Fuck you, Newbie. I took a deep, frustrated breath. "If I remember correctly," I gulped loudly, trying to make myself sound a bit more composed.

"They didn't come near me. I screamed before I saw their face." He was silent after that, brooding. I would have rolled my eyes but I was too invested in keeping them shut.

~~~___~~~

"Wake up," a voice sounded directly into my ear. I jerked upright, gasping. Who and what the fuck decided to wake me up at the ass crack of fucking dawn? They would get their heads skewered on a pipe. "What?" I growled, noticing that the throb in my head had not receded, nor had the stinging in my arm. I felt a hand on my forehead, checking my temperature or some shit. I batted it away and tried slowly opening my eyes. I huffed and glared.

"What the fuck are you still doing here, Newbie?" I snapped, pulling the blankets closer subconsciously.

"I have to make sure you don't slip into a coma, douche bag. I'm doing what the paramedic told me." He sat down on the edge of the bed, right next to my shins and held up a bottle of pills. He unscrewed the lid and poured two into his hand. "Here," he said, handing them to me and dropping them in my palm.

"Take these and you'll be in less pain." I raised an eyebrow. "So, what, you're my drug mule? Well, I don't have any money on me now but come back on Thursday—that's when my pimp gives me my weekly cheque." He just stared, unblinking. I averted my gaze, grasping the glass of water on my nightstand and popping the pills followed by the whole glass. I handed it to him and he took it. "I'll be waking you up again in two hours." He warned. I gritted my teeth.

"What do you care if I never wake up?" I said, flopping back down and turning on my side with my pillow hugged close.

I realised I was dressed in a t-shirt and some cotton shorts. "I care plenty," he sighed. The beam of light trailing in through the doorway where he stood illuminated him. I sat up woodenly and glowered at him unrelenting. "You changed me?" I asked, tugging at the shirt I was wearing. He rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably and shrugged. I clamped my lips together and grabbed the nearest pillow. "Get out!" I threw it at him but he quickly closed the door before it hit him.

I grumbled in silence for a moment before resigning back to sleep. The two hours felt like two seconds.

"God damn it, wake up!" Edward demanded, shaking me violently. I prised my eyes open and rolled onto my back. "Stop fucking shaking me, I'm awake!" I complained in a raspy tone. He sighed and dropped his hands. He was kneeling on the bed beside me, his arms outstretched and hesitant.

The light was on and it made my eyes sting and water. I sighed and sat up, stretching out a little. My joints popped and my head still throbbed like a fucking train wreck. "Let me get back to sleep," I moaned, slumping back down as I realised what time it was. He only nodded, hopped off the bed and left, closing my door behind him. I wonder if he was sleeping or if he had been awake this entire time...?

I took in the darkness around me, cuddling the blankets closer and digging my face into them before I dozed off again.

~~~___~~~

"Pop tarts?" I asked disbelieving. "Are you serious?" Newbie rolled his eyes at me while he shoved them in the toaster and leaned against the granite counter. I tried to avoid staring at his _still naked_ chest. Wasn't he cold? With the way my nipples were hardening, anyone would think it was.

Mother fucking nipples. I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm not fucking Martha Stewart." He quipped, raising an eyebrow. "Whatever," I muttered, turning my face away.

"How does your arm feel?" he said quietly. I looked down at the gauzy material and shrugged. "Fine. How's your face?" I asked, bored. He shrugged. "Fine." He copied me but he rubbed his chin. He had intruded my room another time to make sure I was still alive. Only he caught me by surprise as I had thought he wasn't coming back after that last time. I had whipped my hand out and smacked him square across the jaw. I would have felt guilty had it not been so fucking hilarious. "I guess I shouldn't expect an apology..." he trailed off. I shook my head. "You'll be waiting a long time, Newbie." I smirked. His eyes became serious again as they flickered to my arm and down the floor.

"So...was this an accident...?" I stared at him. "What are you getting at?" I said flatly. He took a few cautious steps forward, taking my arm to examine it closely. I let him take it, let him stroke his fingers up the bandage. "You did it on purpose...didn't you." It wasn't a question. It pissed me off. I snatched my hand back and shoved with both hands at his chest. "Don't fucking make assumptions, Newbie. You have no fucking idea what you're talking about!" My voice was raised to a near scream.

"Alright, so you didn't do it on purpose. But you didn't care after it happened, did you?" My arms fell to my sides and I exhaled sharply. I didn't have an answer...because I knew he was right. "Fuck you, Newbie." I snarled, spinning on my heel. He grabbed my elbow and spun me back around, pushing my back against the counter. I glanced around nervously before I remembered that Esme had decided to spend the night at the club. I tried to wriggle away but he put a hand on the bench, either side of my waist.

"Why do you hate me so much?" he said, mouth tight. I shook my head and laughed bitterly. But seriously, I didn't have a good enough excuse.

"Because..." I stuttered, glancing anywhere but his eyes. "Because...?" he pressed, leaning closer. "You-You are such a...a-a-a t-tool." He leaned his face closer to mine, his breath brushing against my face. I breathed it in hungrily. Holy shit. My eyelids fluttered and my heart rate sped up. He smirked then.

"Not good enough," he whispered. He pulled my face to his and enveloped me in his embrace. We were kissing, quite fucking feverishly.

My lips parted and invited his tongue into my mouth. I moaned when he gained entry, sliding his tongue in and out to mingle with my own.

He pressed me harder against the kitchen cupboards, grinding his hips into mine. I gasped at the friction—the feel of his hard cock pushed so close to my centre. I let my hands trail up and down the planes of his chest, taking in his muscled torso. His hands skimmed down my spine and I shivered which elicited a moan from between his lips. I let my hands roam upwards, twining into his hair and tugging at the roots roughly. Normal breathing turned to heavy panting as we explored each other's bodies. He moved his mouth from mine, laying open-mouthed kisses down my neck to my collar bone. I still had on that loose, very unflattering t-shirt.

He pulled the shoulder down to lick the skin it concealed. I groaned and let my head roll back.

"Ah, fuck!" Edward growled. My hands, excited and enthusiastic, moved to his pants.

With one fluid movement, they were undone and I was grasping his steel shaft with my hand. God, he felt so...delicious.

He ripped at my shirt, tearing it until it fell to scraps on the floor. He quickly discarded the cotton shorts, pulling them down and off my legs, along with my panties. I pushed his pants further down his legs which he proceeded to kick off. We were now fully naked.

His eyes roamed over my body and mine over his like hungry, blood thirsty predators.

Faster than lightning, his hands were behind my head, pulling my face back to his so he could catch my bottom lip between his. He put one hand between us, rubbing my sensitive clit with his thumb. I whimpered and pushed into his hand. He smiled with a devilish spark in his eye. It made my heart flutter and the wetness began to appear between my thighs.

He grabbed my thigh and hitched it over his hip. His head hovered an inch away from my sopping wet entrance.

"Come on," I begged in a moan, burying my face in his shoulder. I was aching with anticipation. His other hand grasped my waist roughly before he plunged deep into my core. I let out a wail and a scream as the pleasure took over. His hips rocked and moved against mine in fast succession.

I tried lifting my leg higher so he could gain better access. He grunted as he slid in and out, pulling out all the way before thrusting back in. I groaned and whimpered as I neared the precipice. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I gasped, closing my eyes. He groaned. "Fuck yes," he growled breathlessly.

"More," I moaned. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he pumped me harder and harder.

His fingers dug in painfully and I tugged at his hair with total abandon. He seemed to like it. My face got flushed and I felt myself begin tighten. "Oh come on, yes!" I said breathlessly. "Just a little more, Edward! Just..." I felt myself convulsing with pleasure. The heat of his body mixed with the friction of our bodies moving together, caused me to gain closer to my climax. He slammed into me repeatedly, his teeth gritted and his eyes stone green. I rode a solid wave of orgasmic bliss.

"Ahh, fuuuckk!!" Edward snarled. I tightened around his cock just before he came inside me.

My blood boiled beneath my skin, my breathing actually stopped and I swear my pussy was fucking cheering a chorus of hallelujah.

**I just love that last line, don't you? I thought it would be fitting for her to think.**

**Anywho, sorry about the delay. I've been really busy lately...again. I needed to do some shit but I am back!**

***collective woo***

**So yeah, hope you enjoyed the lemon. I will get into a more detailed one later on ;)**

**LOVE YOU GUYS!**

**AND CAN I GET A HALLELUJAH!!**


	10. Amidst this chaos

The way she was leaning up against that fucking counter top...

My hard on was raging and difficult to conceal so I inconspicuously leaned over to put the pop tarts in the toaster.

I didn't even realise what I had in my hands. I had been rummaging through the kitchen for something to eat when she came out of her room. I stopped dead in my tracks with the box in my hands, not even knowing what they were at the time. It was kind of lucky they were pop tarts because they could have been moth traps for all I bothered to check.

I resisted the urge to groan when she crossed her legs at the ankle and folded her arms over her chest, pushing her tits together. I bit my lip and turned around as she complained about my culinary skills. As always, she was snarky and rude. She had the worst fucking attitude.

I felt sorry for Esme for having to live with her. Now, if Esme was a dude, I would totally get it.

Then again, I felt grateful that she didn't live with a male roommate. Something about that thought just made me want to...snap. I tried to ignore the pinkish pout of her lips as she bit on them between sentences. Then I asked her about the night before. If it was an accident.

Her answer? Less than forthcoming. She wasn't exactly courteous. She spat and snarled at me, telling me to fuck off and that I knew nothing about her. But I did. I knew quite a lot. Which was frightening to say the least. I grabbed her above the elbow and pulled her to me.

I didn't realise the ramifications of doing so because the next thing I knew, we were kissing. Her soft, tasty lips moving passionately in synch with mine. Our tongues slid against one another as I invaded her mouth. We undressed each other in a sex-hungry haze.

I could hardly remember how it had gotten to this. But now, here I was, in Bella's bed, panting like a fucking St. Bernard. We had retreated from the kitchen to the bedroom after a lengthy fuck, only to fuck again like zoo animals. And my god, was it fucking great.

We both lay on top of the coverlet, our chests heaving and damp with sweat. A drip of sweat ran over the swell of her breast. I bit my lip and groaned. She turned her dazed face to me with a smirk. It faltered for a moment, something moved behind her eyes but the steel mask replaced it within seconds.

Every now and then I could catch a glimpse of the real Bella. The one that was there before this girl took her place.

I had my hands clutched into the blankets, still rocked by the last escapade we embarked on. She propped herself up on her elbows, the drip of sweat moving further down her body. I let out an impatient breath, my cock going hard again as I watched her move slightly so she was facing me.

She grinned and cocked an eyebrow. "You ready to go again, soldier?" she winked. My answer was to grab her arms and pull her on top of me. Her lips met mine and I fed on them with my own. I ran my hands down her body to cup her ass. I took one of my hands to guide myself inside her.

She shifted and knelt on either side of my hips, sitting on my lap and sliding down my already painful erection.

I sat up slightly to bury my face in her neck, nipping and licking my way across her shoulders. Her nails dug into my chest as she rocked her hips back and forth. She groaned and I grunted as I neared yet another fucking climax. I could tell she was close, shuddering slightly every now and then. I was worried my poor dick couldn't take anymore. But time after time it fucking rose to the occasion. She flattened her palms on my chest and pushed me back so I collapsed onto the pillows.

She grabbed the steel bed frame, the poles right above my head. Her hands circled them and she gripped tightly before _really_ riding me. I let my hands explore over her breasts, cupping them and pinching her nipples. She wailed and moaned in succession.

"You like that?" I asked smugly but in a strained voice as I tried to hold back blowing my load inside her. She whimpered in response. "Fuck, you're so sexy when you do that," I groaned. She rocked harder and faster in response to my words. I yelled out, sitting up. She removed her hands from the bed. I bent my knees underneath her and pushed her onto her back, her legs wrapping around my waist as I took control of the pressure and pace.

I moved slowly, teasingly. My wet cock slid out of her hot core then back inside again, going deeper. I dragged my tongue over her bottom lip, tasting her. I loved her taste. I had never had anything like it. I fucked her like there was no tomorrow.

She grabbed the post at the corner of the bottom of the bed.

Her arms were stretched above her head as she watched our connected bodies move together. Her tits moved along with my thrusting, it was hypnotic. I leaned down and took one in my mouth, nibbling gently before pushing harder. My hand moved down to her slickness, flicking her clit as I plunged again and again.

"Ah, fuck! Edward, more!" she growled, letting go of the post and grabbing my shoulders. I sucked in a breath between my teeth. I just about came at her dirty talk. "You feel so good," I moaned. "Ditto," she gasped. I grabbed at her waist and pulled out before slamming my cock back in again with more force. She screamed and convulsed like a fucking epileptic, gritting her teeth and letting her eyes roll back in her head. I plunged once more and emptied myself inside her.

"Fuuckkk...." I gasped, breathing heavily and leaning over her. How many fucking calories had I burned today doing this shit? I wouldn't need to work out for a week, lets just leave it at that. Without a second thought, I leaned down and caught her lip between my teeth, tugging gently before kissing her again.

She was hesitant but returned the kiss. I lifted myself up enough to look at her face. She was looking at me in an odd way and I had just realised that what I had done was abnormally tender for people who were supposedly just fucking. She blinked before pushing me off and crawling off the bed.

She stumbled and I got up to steady her. "Argh, I can hardly fucking walk because of you. I hope you're happy, Newbie." I smirked before letting my grasp on her waist go. She staggered into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her before I heard the faucets squeak and the shower start running.

I frowned as I lay back down on the bed, lacing my hands behind my head. She only called me Edward when she was close to an orgasm. The rest of the time she called me Newbie. I wondered why that was. Maybe she was used to calling me Newbie and she liked to pretend I was someone she didn't hate.

Edward was not what she called me, so maybe it just sounded like someone else. Whatever the reason, I couldn't help but feel a little...resentful? Disappointed? I didn't really know. All I really understood was that she knew how to make my cock twitch with a bat of her eyelashes.

I had no fucking control over it anymore. Thank god she shared the same sort of lust. Otherwise I would be whacking off every night to the visual of her dancing—I would be no better than those dirty old fucks that pay to watch her at Blood Moon. I gritted my teeth against the swelling rage and possessiveness that was building inside my chest. I sat up and walked out into the living room, searching for my clothes. It was dark already. Bella would have to go to work soon.

As would I. It would only be expected that I show up with her. I was, after all, responsible for keeping her happy. And I did that. Exceptionally well. I flipped the light on, finding my jeans in the kitchen, along with my boxers. I glanced at the toaster and pulled the stone cold pop tarts out. I bit into one.

It didn't taste great, but it was food and I could use some energy after _that._ I looked over to her bedroom but I could still hear the shower going. I sat up on the counter and waited. We would need to drop by my house so I could have a shower and get changed. I gulped and tried not to get hard again at the thought of taking Bella in my own apartment. Have her bent over my kitchen counter...or the sofa...or the T.V... The T.V? I shook my head and chewed, sighing.

I was fucking exhausted. I thought ahead to tonight. It was what...a Tuesday?

No, Wednesday. Huh, it was funny how you couldn't keep track when your attention was...otherwise engaged. I cleared my throat and closed my eyes going over what Wednesdays were like.

They weren't too busy but they weren't exactly dead, either. Those were Mondays. The start of the week when all the filthy fucker's had wives who wouldn't let them out after dark because it was the first day back at work after the end of the weekend.

_Okay, so, we drop by my house. I have a shower. I get changed..._I was mentally checking things off my list.

_We go to the club. Bella gets ready. I go see Esme—she'll want to know how Bella behaved. _

_I tell her everything was fine. I go out onto the floor. I make shallow joked with the guys—Felix and Demetri. _

_I take my typical body guard stance. I watched the people file in. I maybe do some bouncing. Make sure no trouble makers get entrance. I keep an eye on the bar. I scan over everyone as the music starts. I keep closer watch once the girls start dancing. I wait impatiently. I tap my foot. I watch Bella come out and start her routine. _

_I finish the night with a raging hard on. I get on my bike. I go home. _

_I _do not_ think about Bella again._

~~~___~~~

I shouldn't have assumed it would be that easy. I left Bella in the car to brood while I quickly took a shower and changed clothes. It took five minutes in total. We ended up early to work—for once. I drove, not trusting Bella because of her recent episode.

We rode in silence...very awkward silence. What did you say to the girl you had repeatedly fucked just hours prior? 'Say, you ready to go again tonight?', or, 'You're not married, are you?', or my personal favourite, 'Please tell me you don't have herpes!'. I wondered idly if this would affect our working relationship.

Seeing as we hate each other already, it shouldn't make much difference, right? Bella got out of the car quickly, not waiting for me. I was glad because I could _really_ use a smoke. I scrounged around, bumming one from Felix who looked at me quizzically, knowing I didn't usually smoke.

I just shook my head and used his lighter before handing it back to him.

"Edward? You okay, man?" he asked, pocketing his cigarettes and his shiny lighter. I just shrugged, taking a long, soothing drag before staring at my feet and leaning up against the concrete wall. I sighed and scratched my forehead with my thumb, keeping my other hand buried in my leather jacket pocket. "Fine," I said, exhaling a stream of white smoke. He frowned and narrowed his eyes. A look of understanding crossed his features. He chuckled and shook his head.

"Yeah, sure you are. They can be a handful, can't they?" he said cryptically. I lifted an eyebrow and squinted at him.

"Huh? They? Who is 'they'?" I asked, taking another drag. He smirked knowingly. My frustration was building. I think Bella's attitude was rubbing off on me. God, that was not good. "Like you don't know who I'm talking about." He chuckled again, scratching his head. He sighed and turned away, throwing me a quick grin over his shoulder. I rolled my eyes. Maybe he was back on E, that must be why he was acting so retarded. I flicked the butt on the ground, stamping it out with my shoe and stalking back inside.

"You can do this, you can do this, you can do this," I chanted in a whisper to myself. "Edward." Tanya nodded cordially. I didn't respond.

I was still fucking pissed at her for being the way she was. Almost letting Bella die. I wouldn't be a very good body guard if I struck her, would I? I clenched my fists and continued down the corridor, not glancing in the dressing room. I opened the door next to the stage that opened on to the main floor.

The polished black, concrete floor shimmered under the lights. Eric had already started up the smoke machine. It was foggy in here, creating a jungle-like ambience. I frowned and sauntered over to the bar like I had rehearsed in my mind. "Hello, Esme." I said nicely. Her head snapped up and her eyes found mine within a split second. She practically flew to my end of the bar. "How did it go?" she asked. I had to lean back slightly she was so far up in my space.

"Fine, Esme. You don't have to worry." I answered, trying my best to be reassuring.

"Everything's...just fine." I said, and I didn't know if I was telling her this or trying to convince myself. Either way I wasn't doing a very good job. She narrowed her eyes and smiled apologetically. "Thank you so much for taking care of her. I know she can be bit of work," I snorted at her term 'a bit of work'. Bella was a lot of work. In fact, Bella was so much work, I could spend a lifetime working on her and still be busy. Instead of being a brainlessly annoying concept, it rather appealed to me. I shocked myself with that revelation but didn't look at it too closely. I was just thinking in general. Not Bella in particular. Definitely not Bella.

_Especially_ not Bella. I sighed and clasped my hands in front of me on top of the bar. Esme stared at me for a moment inquisitively before shrugging slightly and polishing down the slab, throwing the towel over her shoulder and reaching under the bar for some glasses.

I ordered a shot of Rum. Something to just...dull the energy sort of. I downed it like soda, gritting my teeth against the burn then lavishing in it. I thanked Esme who just gave me a nod and a sweet smile before going back to her business. I welcomed the customers in when they came, it looked like Demetri was slacking in his bouncer duties. As always. I didn't have to plaster an aloof mask on my face. It was easy to obtain naturally doing this job.

I was tempted not to let anyone in and just enjoy the Bella for myself.

_What?!_ My head squealed. I think I needed a new ear drum. My inner monologue squealed at me, like a fucking girl, it was so incredulous. I shook it all out. I shook out the weird thoughts, the scary feelings and everything else. I stood at the door and waited for our patronage to come swarming in.

~~~___~~~

It had been one month since our last encounter at her house. What an event that was.

I couldn't stop thinking about it. Naturally, my head was still swimming in her scent, even though we had not touched in days. My fingers could still feel her silky smooth skin. My eyes were still locked and lost in her's. However I avoided eye contact with her at all costs.

I was...terrified of realising something I didn't want to know. I had never been in this situation before. I was freaking out. On a scale of calm to stressed, I was shitting bricks to the max, way beyond the point of stressed out. All of my thoughts were consumed by her.

I hated it. I shivered as I reminisced about the feel of her around me.

I held back a groan as I replayed that awesome day in my head over and over like a recorded video. Jesus, I needed a lay. I needed a lay that was other than the pretentious little, antagonistic, arrogant Bella Swan. I was just oddly fixated on her because she was a pretty great fuck. I promised myself that I would find something to play with to get my mind off of her. I needed an outlet that didn't come with the crazy package. But I wasn't settling for Tanya. No way in fucking hell.

Besides, she didn't really show much interest after how I had treated her that day when Bella almost killed herself.

I shuddered at the memory of her lying lifeless on the staircase, her clothes and skin pale but stained with a vivid red. She invaded every thought I had in my mind. I was either dreaming of fucking her or having nightmares of her death. I was going insane and I didn't know how to stop it.

I was owner of a one-way ticket to Crazy Town, stopping by Fucked up City and possibly meeting Bella along the way because I was sure as hell that she wasn't completely sane. But for another fucked up reason I refused to acknowledge, the crazy was appealing. It was...magnetising.

God, I was sick. I tried to focus but it was impossible with her around all the time. There were subtle changes in her actions. It's like she would be extremely normal, but less snappy and more...happy? Then other times it looked like she was so lost and distraught, as if she was missing something.

Like she had misplaced a possession. But whenever our eyes met, a loud bang would sound in only my ears, the room would slow down for a split second and I could almost believe she resembled a human. She hardly fought with me anymore. That was because we never spoke.

She always came after I started so we had no spare time to discuss anything that had happened between us. And then she left before I did, so I had no chance to catch her after work, either.

I considered dropping by her home but I reckoned she would just lock me out and not answer the door. It bothered me when she went home by herself. That's why I made sure to fucking follow her inconspicuously to the parking lot. I didn't want a repeat of that night she was almost attacked. My stress level was already through the fucking roof, add on Bella getting hurt and I would fly off the fucking handle. Yes, it was irrational and I shouldn't really care.

But...I couldn't help it. It must be the sex thing. Tonight was a Friday. Our busiest night all week.

Things were getting heated inside and the guys were getting a little rowdy. I didn't like it.

In fact, it was taking all of my self control to watch this go on before my eyes every single day for a fucking month. This shit was unbearable. To watch Bella parading herself around these assholes almost made me sick. But I held my stance in the corner, only moving when necessary. But some nights I just couldn't take any more shit. Bella was on stage, mesmerising as usual—but there was an odd sensation in the air tonight. I felt myself edging towards her, as if unconsciously.

I didn't even realise I was doing it. But I felt...what, danger? Like I had the instincts of a lion—I could sense something about to erupt and all I wanted to do was get her out of there. As it were, my paranoia was right. A crowd of men piled in the door, loud and causing a stir among other customers. Then the fists started flying. Bella noticed and stopped dancing. She looked around in confusion then spotted the huge group brawling. Another fucking bar fight.

They were moving, shuffling closer to the stage. Closer to Bella. I saw her mouth move, hissing out curses. I would have laughed had I been in the mood. However, I was not. I was intent. Focussed solely on one thing and one thing only. A singular objective.

Just as I was about to advance closer and snatch her up, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I spun around and ducked just in time before I was glassed in the face.

My hand shot out into the guy's stomach. I crouched half-way, swinging my leg out and collecting his legs with it. He fell backwards, slurring and hiccupping until he thudded onto the floor. My head whipped back to the stage frantically. How was it that most of the fights started when Bella was up there?

My eyes searched, finding purchase before she was dragged by her ankles from the men standing before her.

She screamed and thrashed as their hands grabbed at her body roughly and she was lost among the sea of testosterone and scotch fuelled madness.

That was fucking it. Nobody. Fucked. With. Bella. I didn't really know my approach or how I was going to get passed five other men. But my hands shot out, punching someone's throat. He was down, onto the next one. I bent my arm and elbowed the guy off to my left side. I hit him in the mouth, so he staggered off in pain. Two down, three to go. "Move. Now." I demanded, seeing nothing but red. It was like there was this intense pressure in my skull, as if it was going to explode.

I was breathing hard yet I wasn't exhausted or tired or anything. I was panicked and angry. They didn't notice me standing there but Bella definitely did. She caught a glimpse of me from where she stood in between the closely packed bodies of drunken fucks.

I had a protective streak which seemed to override any rational or logical part of my brain.

I saw their hands on her and I couldn't hold back. One of them came behind her and put his arm around her neck in a choke hold, she looked shocked and fucking angry, but powerless at the same time. Her hands were clawing at the guy's arm but he seemed unfazed, staring hungrily down at her body.

Fuck no. She was _mine_ to look at.

Hands grabbed me from behind, tugging on my jacket and bringing me down to the floor. I struggled furiously as they tried to beat me down. I could see half of her face from where I was. The two guys that were standing in front of her blocked most of her body from view.

They stood a head above her but they were all shorter than me. Hopefully that gave me enough advantage. This red-headed fuck who was trying to pick a fight with me was egging me on, encouraging me to get up and take the first hit. Another anxious glance at Bella; she was going pink, the guy's hold around her neck was too tight. He hit me in the face as I was preoccupied. I hit back, enraged. My hand pound into his head and he fell to the floor like a led weight.

It was a mess in here. Esme was taking shelter behind the bar, I ran towards the men that were trying to hurt Bella. Then thats when I saw him do it. He tried prying his fingers under the fabric of her costume—to touch her between the legs. Her terrified shriek escaped her lips, something so loud and piercing I never knew a human could make such a noise. And yet it communicated such a sense of fear that it chilled me to the bone.

I grabbed a bottle of whiskey that had somehow made its way out here instead of behind the bar.

My fingers wrapped around the neck before I charged forward, beating them over the head with it. First the dirty fuck who had his hands in her pants, then the guy who was watching. It caught them by surprise. I did it pretty hard and the bottle was half full so it was pretty fucking heavy. They both collapsed limply as I made a move for the fucker with Bella in a choke hold. He loosened his grip enough so she could gasp some oxygen into her lungs. He stared at me as I made my way towards them. I wish I had a gun so I could drill this fucker through the forehead. Bella let go of his forearm and swung her arm back into his junk. This distracted him quite successfully. He let go, dropping her to the floor.

I darted forward and swung the bottle at his head like I had the others. He grabbed it as Bella tried to crawl away.

He unscrewed the lid and brought it down on the stage with enough force to shatter the glass.

Bella screamed and although nobody would hear it, it was the loudest noise to me amidst this chaos.

The music still thumped loudly, like a heartbeat. Like _my_ heartbeat. He lunged forward, Bella stuck her leg out, causing him to trip up and thump to the floor. I swung my leg back and kicked, not hesitating. Law suit because of brain damage, be fucked. I didn't care about that.

I jumped over the last guy to fall and knelt by Bella. The glass from the bottle must have flown at her face because she had small cuts across her left cheekbone. It looked like some crude tattoo. Like a sprinkling of tiny red diamond shapes. I wrapped my arm around her waist, putting my other arm under her legs and lifting her. I ran to the behind the bar where Esme had two bottles in her hands as weapons.

I slid to my knees, covering Bella with my own body as I leant over her to examine what they had done.

At long last the cops arrived, shoving people out in groups and using mace when they wouldn't co-operate. I dabbed a damp cloth at the glass cuts across her cheek. She just stared at me in wonder. No malice, no malevolence, no hatred.

Maybe the reason I hated the thought of spending my life with Bella was because I was afraid of how much I wanted it.

**Did you like it? Hehe. More lemons coming up. She aint such a cold bitch anymore. She's sort of getting it more and more everyday. Not to worry. ;)**

**Don't have much else to say other than that mega shit is coming up. OH AND SERIOUS OMG ALERT TO MY FANS FROM INDECENT AFFAIRS: THERE WILL BE A SEQUEL. Hold on to your panties girls! **


	11. Cold hard bitch

**This chapter is dedicated to one of my reviewers, 'xvampiree'. You were right, that song was a great muse for this chappie. ;)**

**And, I'll also give a shout out to usuals, labeano2002, lethar88, 71 star, Pandora1975, Beanflikn247, Bellalullabye09 (**by the way, I'm waiting on an update for LMTF *taps foot imaptiently**), shygirl, emmadtf2, rpattz granny and Robert Pattinson FREAK (**For staying home from school and reading my fic ;), You'r tops!**).**

**Love all of you!**

* * *

Cold hard bitch

Just a kiss on the lips

And I was on my knees

I'm waitin' give me

Cold hard bitch

She was shakin' her hips

Well, that was all that I need

Gonna check her out

She's my latest attraction

Gonna hang around

Wanna get a reaction

Cold Hard Bitch- Jet

* * *

I surveyed the mess of glass and spilled alcohol across the tables and the surface of the bar. There was shattered beer bottles scattered over the floor. I stood at the end of the bar, staring blankly at everything.

Tonight had gotten so completely out of fucking hand. Of course, Newbie had swooped in to save the fucking day like Hercules incarnate. I mean—scoff—why would you do that? I was perfectly capable of handling those fuckers by myself.

I would have had them nailed in five seconds flat. I had just struggled a bit at first. Then he had to be all protective and fucking concerned. That shit was not gonna fly. No way could he act that way when we were supposed to hate each other.

It wasn't fucking fair and not how I wanted it to be.

_Are you sure about that?_ The stupid bitch in my head asked, peaking. I rolled my eyes at myself and my hyperbolic head. That crazy fucker sure knew how to drive me fucking insane. Yet wasn't the definition of insane, hearing voices inside your head? I guess so, so that meant I was already mentally unstable. Huh. I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back against the wooden slab that was still sticky with booze.

I crinkled my nose at the blood splatters—most of them from the guys that Newbie pummelled to save my ass. Fucker had some mean sense of skill, braining them with a scotch bottle. That, I may possibly applaud. I could give him that.

He had style when it came to beating the shit out of hands-y customers, a trait he had shown me often, and in times when it called for it. He also had a severe right-hook, one that Jasper had been unwillingly acquainted with. I still never worked out his motivations behind that outburst.

I had pinned it down to his frustration, and then Jasper wasn't exactly the least pretentious guy to walk through those doors and hit on me. I also reckoned Newbie had a grudge for Southerners, don't ask me why—I kind of liked the sexy bastards. But that was beside the point.

Newbie was going insane right now—off the fucking handle. He was growling and snapping orders to Felix and Demetri even though they held the authority in this place, not him. They also took it like men and did as he asked.

Which was weird, considering Demetri never answered to Felix and it was tough enough to get him to obey Esme. And yet, here he was, stalking around the floor area, going into a fit, practically. I glared, narrowing my eyes as if doing that would get him to fucking stop. I wish I had laser fucking vision so I could burn a hole through the ass of his fucking jeans. Maybe then he'd stop and turn around, realise he was being a douche and then get the fuck back to where he belonged—and that was not Blood Moon. I felt a strange, piercing pang of guilt when I thought about sending him away.

I guess I could...deal...with him, for another few months. But that had to be it—then he was out of the fucking picture. In my head, I had cemented the goal—but it didn't feel right. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of loss, like if I did this, I was tearing a part of me away, too. That was just my fucked up brain telling me things just to creep me out. Yeah, that's it. That's got to be it.

Because I refer to my brain as a separate being.

Man, maybe I was as fucked up as they say.

I kept scanning the room as if it held all the mother fucking answers to my life and the shit storm it had become in the last few weeks. Don't get me wrong, the sex Newbie had given me was...unbelievable. But that's as far as it went or would ever go. I could never spend an extended amount of time with him, I hated him too much. I would end up falling off the perch and killing a few hundred people on the streets with a machete.

I sighed, unfolded my arms and stormed determinedly off to my dressing room, trying to avoid seeing Newbie the entire way. I made it to my room safely—thank you! I trudged up to my rack of clothes, stripping off my costume and pulling my normal clothes on; the club was shut for the rest of the night and possibly tomorrow night as well.

I wondered idly, as I pulled my blouse on, what had actually started the fight. I mean, they were definitely not un-fucking-common.

But no tool off the fucking street just barged in through the doors to start beating the shit out of everyone. It was just...odd.

I pushed my arms through the sleeves of my leather jacket and sat down to put my sneakers on. I had opted for sneakers tonight, my heels were giving me bitching blisters. Rosalie came stalking through the door then, in a swish of golden hair and satin cloth. I reached my hands behind my head, gathering my thick hair into a loose bun and tying it with a band. I raised an eyebrow in question. I was the intense, brooding, sinister, bitchy one.

Maybe once in a blue moon would I see Rosalie get pissed.

Someone must have really done something bad. "PMS?" I asked, cocking my head to the side smugly. She whipped her head around and glared at me with pursed lips and fiery blue eyes. I felt them pierce through my head and I bet she was wishing they were lasers. She 'hmphed' and kicked her heels off, thumping to her change of clothes and stripping her costume off as if it were peel-able paint. I shook my head. Drama queen. _Hypocrite, much?_ I rolled my eyes.

Whatever.I tied the laces up on my converse sneakers, standing up and depositing my phone and keys in my bag. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror before I could go any further. There were angry red marks across my cheek—from the glass.

I poked at them and they stung, but nothing a little bit of peroxide couldn't cure. I sighed, slung my hand bag over my shoulder and made a move for the door. I poked my head out into the hallway to check if anyone was there. It was empty, lucky for me.

I fucking bolted to Esme's office so I could tell her I was fucking off home. When I swung the door open, it was empty too. The gloomy looking passage way wasn't exactly inviting. I didn't want to walk back there an risk being met with a empathetic Newbie again.

There's only so much a cold hard bitch could stand in one night when it came to soft little boy-men. I sighed, frustrated, then decided in spite of the knot in my stomach, to risk it. Fuck it if he was in there, I would just ignore him.

He couldn't very well cart me off into some dark corner and get words out of me—about anything—if Esme was in there. She wouldn't stand for anyone man handling me—even if he was a body guard and had just kept my ass from being attacked hours prior. That exact scenario is what set James off.

Although I knew deep down in my fucking stone chest that it was wrong to compare the two.

James was cold and aloof—a lot like me, much to my sudden despair—he didn't stop to ask about anything.

He was blunt and straight forward, he got his own way all the time, whether it was taking shifts or me. He didn't take no for a fucking answer. I felt the little trickle of rage that usually started in my stomach whenever I thought about that fucker and what he had intended to do with me.

I cast my eyes downward, hoping to avoid any eye contact once I entered that fucking room again. There was no-one in there before, though. Maybe Esme was downstairs...? I pushed the door open with my palm, my heart skipping uncomfortably and unfamiliarly when I was met with Newbie on the other side. He took in my stance, possibly realising that I was angry. It wasn't that fucking hard, it was practically seeping from my eyes and the crown of my head.

My breath caught in my throat as if someone had a choke hold around my neck, just like before.

I felt panicked, as if I couldn't get enough air in my lungs. Before Newbie noticed my discomfort, he piped in. "Are you okay? You look shaken up from before." He said, stepping closer. I moved around him, toward the bar. "Where's Esme?" I strangled out of my mouth. His brow came together and I had to look away from his sculpted features of concern and angst. He was..._looking out for me._ Nobody had looked at me that way ever.

Nobody cared if I was mentally stable—not since Charlie had anyone asked about my feelings and I actually wanted to tell them. _Oh, fuck this shit. If you seriously don't realise it, you're on your own._ I was inclined to start yelling at that fucking voice but that would look weird, wouldn't it? So, I just settled for growling under my breath. Newbie wouldn't be able to hear it all that well.

"She went home before. You just missed her." He informed me, stepping closer to me again, closing the gap between us. I sucked in a breath, trying not to react to him. I wanted to tell him to leave me alone and stop whatever mind trick he was using, or whatever pheromone he sprayed on his neck every morning that kept me wanting more of what he could give me. As my thoughts flickered back to those two times we had fucked—I felt myself getting flustered and excited all at once.

I needed to fan myself but that would look too conspicuous. "Is there anyone left? Or is this a fucking ghost town already?" I asked, breathily, trying to go for a snarky tone but failing immensely. I was going to ridicule myself once I got home.

_Don't worry, I can do that for you now, fuck face._ Even my inner monologue's attitude was getting old.

I let out a gust of air between my teeth. Newbie watched me with a measured expression as if he was being cautious like approaching a lioness...or a bomb. I stared at him like he had a dildo strapped to his head. "You, Rosalie and I are the last ones here.

I promised Dem, and Felix that I'd make sure I closed up. Esme was tired after spending an extra night here last night." He explained, glancing around the room methodically before his eyes landed back on me. I averted my gaze from his, afraid of what I might do under his crazy hypnotic mind powers. I half expected him to pull out a pendulum and tell me my eyes were getting _very _heavy. I tried to snap myself out of it, however with him standing mere feet away...it was fucking difficult.

"O-okay. I guess I'll get out of your fucking hair," I stuttered, not sounding courageous at all. My usual debauchery was something that everyone knew me for—Edward was growing suspicious at how off-hand I sounded. I was surprising the fuck out of myself, to be frank.

I really could go for a drink—a strong one, possibly one that left you passed out for more than a few hours.

"Bella," Newbie began, reaching his hand out as if to console me about tonight's treacherous events. "Just leave it, Newbie. I'm so not in the mood for your fucking heroics." I built up my brick wall, hoping my less than debonair attitude would warn him not to fuck with me. I was trying to make him think I wasn't as vulnerable as I felt.

Obviously, I should have known better than to think he could be that fucking gullible. And yet, he reacted the way I wanted him too.

"Don't act like that," he said, apprehension leaking thickly into his tone. I cocked an eyebrow in challenge. Then he started saying things I didn't particularly like. "You know, I'm getting pretty tired of this charade," he sneered. My eyes widened and he nodded. "Yeah, you think you have it all covered up but you don't. You're far beyond that." I laughed once bitterly. "Well, thanks for that, Newbie."I muttered. "Leave me the fuck alone. I'm not anyone's charity case or some fixer-upper. I don't need you telling me that you can see through me. I just want to go about everything as per-fucking normal. _Without_ you informing me that I wasn't even able to hide it at all." I huffed, letting my emotions get the better of me, yet Newbie looked guilty so I guess it got the desired effect. I shouldered past him but, like the douche he is, he grabbed my arm.

"Don't fucking walk away from me!" he demanded. He was shaking his head manically.

I glared at his forehead, not meeting his gaze. He grabbed my chin with his hand and I didn't protest because once we locked eyes it felt like I couldn't move. He let go of my chin roughly and my arm, being less than gentle but for some fucked reason it made my core sopping wet. I suppressed a guttural moan. No way was I going to cave and fuck him, especially when he was being an egotistical prick.

"You walk away your whole life. You try to run to make things better, to forget. Why don't you face me?" he challenged. "You are the most stubborn, ego-driven, arrogant, selfish little bitch I have ever met!

You care about no-one and nothing besides yourself and your own ass." He droned on sharply. I flinched at his words—knowing they were all fucking true. I gnashed my teeth together but for once I wasn't angry—I was feeling a surge of hurt well up in the depths of my dormant heart.

Something was awakening. "You!" he pointed with his index finger to me.

I blinked.

"You have no idea what people around here do for you! You're ungrateful, you never seem like you have a sliver of human in you." He said, his voice on the edge of hysteria. I wonder if he was going insane because of me. Quite possible. I guess I could have that effect. "But," he conceded weakly. He was shaking his head in disbelief, raking a trembling hand through his sex-hair. I watched, unmoving as I waited for his next words that would totally fucking push me off the perch.

"None of it matters." I frowned impatiently at his cryptic remark. He turned the full force of his gaze on me and I was at a loss for words—the only reaction in my body was the heat between my legs and the growing moisture. Fuck, soon I'd need to excuse myself.

"None of it matters because I'd take it," he said. His hands reached towards my face.

"I'd take it all if it meant I could have you." My lip trembled without volition and my knees felt weak as if they'd been pelted with a baseball bat. My face like it had all the blood drained from it and I couldn't breathe. Our eyes never left the other's. I swallowed loudly, my eyes unintentionally flicking to his lips—so close, so edible. My heart was so fucking fast—my entire frame shaking in a massive convulsion. But I was a bitch—a cold, heartless, fucking bitch.

And, he what? He—hold on—he _wanted_ me? My mind couldn't comprehend the lunacy. I shook my head, but his hands moved to either side of my face, ceasing my motions. This couldn't be true—but it felt like it. What happened to my exterior?

The armour?

The mask?

The facade?

The sense of not caring about anything or anyone?

I couldn't find a bone in my body that objected to this. I also couldn't find a trace of me that could deny him any longer. Avoidance was what kept me from this resolution. The one I was so terrified of to begin with. That I was capable of _feeling._

Truly, a miracle in itself. But having something, always meant there was more at stake to lose. But it was an already lost battle. I knew who would win in the end, and it wasn't the easy side. So I did what my heart told me and what my body was trying to tell me all along but I was too stupid or just ignorant to acknowledge it. I was unfeeling, bitter, yet a force to be reckoned with. Edward was the force to withstand.

"You don't know what you're talking about," I whispered, only he could hear.

He leant closer, our bodies almost touching. I tried to back away but his hands shot out to grasp my arms.

"I'm only just _starting_ to know what I'm talking about," he breathed, his words fanning against my face. I inhaled deeply, my eyes fluttering closed. He let out a shaky breath, his hands trembling around my arms. Slowly, he let them go. I opened my eyes in question. I didn't want him to stop. He must have also read this in my eyes because he reached his right hand up to my face. He trailed a line with his finger tips, down my jaw, under my chin, tracing the column of my throat.

_Just let him._ And for once, I couldn't argue with myself. Because I wanted it too fucking much.

I had been running from Edward. But he wasn't going to let that happen anymore.

The prospect of having anyone else to think about was laughable. I had long since given up any hope of meeting anyone whom I could love and cherish. And as much as I might deny it to him or myself—there was something in me that couldn't be explained.

It was an intense, irrational fear of losing Edward. It was a longing of such zeal, and unfathomable fucking need to be near him and yet I dreaded the fact. I knew now that I only hated seeing him because I knew what would happen if I did—it was fucking happening now.

I didn't realise I was breathing hard until I heard it in my own ears. My chest rising and falling in rapid speed, almost in synch with his. The tense little bubble we were concealed in was almost too much to bear. He broke the tension then, only to make the situation more intense.

He palmed my hips gently and I just about fucking came. I trembled under his touch—unlike with Jasper or Jacob.

_Definitely not fucking Jasper._ He brought my hips flush with his, pressing my body against him then leaning down and pushing his lips against mine roughly. I moaned, unable to contain it. I almost lost my fucking footing when our faces came into contact. My breathing became desperate gasps and for some reason, having him this close didn't make it close enough. His tongue brushed along my bottom lip, asking for entrance which I gladly fucking granted.

His fingers dug into my sides, sliding behind my back and tightening.

My hands climbed his arms, groaning when I caressed his biceps the rested behind his neck.

Our kisses became hungry and uninhibited as our tongues intermingled.

I could feel his hands roaming up my spine, sending chills through my entire body and sparking my nerves like I stuck my fucking finger in a power socket. His hands moved back down to the small of my back, they venture lower, cupping my ass cheeks.

I gasped, knotting my fingers through his bronze locks, and pulling his head back as I rabidly attacked his neck. His hands tightened, squeezing before he leant down further. His hands wrapped around the back of my thighs before pushing them forward and out from under me. I hitched both my legs around his hips and I was too horny and lost to fucking object. He walked backwards until his ass hit something and we jolted to a stop. He spun around and sat me on the slippery surface of the bar.

I sucked in a breath through my trembling lips, my eyes hooded. I was growing uncomfortable with the increasing moisture in my panties.

It looks like Newbie was having that problem too. I half smiled, acting seductive and devilish. I hooked my fingers into his jeans, he hissed but let me unbutton his pants, pulling the zipper down extra slowly. His hands got busy soon enough, popping the button of my jeans off and unzipping them swiftly.

I leant my hands behind me on the bar, lifting my ass up so he could pull them down off my legs. His eyes blazed, green embers.

I had to keep myself from screaming in pleasure and excitement. It was like a fucking rollercoaster. My favourite ride. His jeans were around his ankles but he quickly discarded them, leaving him in his boxers as he kicked his boots off. I reefed his jacket off his shoulders, kissing down his neck and nipping gently. He reciprocated, pulling my jacket down my arms and laying open-mouthed kisses down my neck. Only he was more rough. I liked it a little too much. I moaned and gasped as his teeth bit down, marking my skin.

I should have cared, but I wanted them there. More clothes shed and we were in our underwear. He reached behind me, unclasping my bra and letting my breasts fall out. He cupped them in his hands and kneaded them gently, kissing along my jaw before leaning down and taking one in his mouth.

I growled.

"Oh. God! Yes!" My hands held his face to my chest as he suckles, running his tongue around my nipple.

I hissed and moaned with ecstasy. I tried pushing his boxers down his thighs with my feet. I was successful after he helped shimmy out of them, letting them fall to his ankles. I just about reached a fucking orgasm as I saw his vast length standing to attention before me. He looked into my eyes and glanced down at his throbbing cock, a small smirk growing on his face. I bit my lip, breathing hard like a panting bull. His hands caused a fiery trail up my arms then back down again, to my waist.

He fingered the elastic band of my panties then made an attempt to remove them. Moving torturously slow, he pulled them down my thighs to my knees before they fell to the floor off my feet. He took in my body and I took in his, lavishing but not wasting any time.

Every other time we had been together it was spontaneous and ended without so much as a long glance at the other person—apart from on my bed, which was what started to freak me out in the first place. I gripped his shoulders and he stood between my parted legs, gazing into my eyes as if I had given him a cure to his blue balls.

Which, I guess I did. In that case, he was welcome. So fucking welcome. He ran his fingers up my neck until he got to the bun in my hair, pulling it out until my long tresses cascaded across my shoulders. He leaned into my shoulder, the tip of his cock coming frighteningly close to my centre.

I gritted my teeth to keep from snapping out a 'please, just fucking do it already' at him. He put his nose to the crook of my neck, inhaling my scent as if it were a rare, delicate flower.

I would have scoffed at that—no way was I some fucking delicate flower. I may have looked it, but obviously, looks were fucking deceiving. The only other person who had stopped to smell my hair when we were intimate was Jacob. Except when he did it, it only felt creepy and a huge invasion of my fucking space.

Now it just felt so fucking good. The ends of my hair brushed against my breasts, he ran his fingers down my shoulders, behind my back and to my waist, just below my boobs.

He grasped the skin there, tightening his grip before making a feral growl and pushing me further along the slab so my legs were no longer dangling. I gasped, excited. My sneakers were still on and I felt a blush begin to stain my cheeks. Newbie bit his lip and groaned.

I made a move to kick them off but he shook his head. Instead, he hopped up onto the bar with me, my eyes widening. Oh, shit this was going to be fucking awesome. He grabbed my ankle and dragged me closer, my ass squeaking against the glossy surface.

I realised distantly that there was no longer, sticky alcohol spilled across it anymore. Well, it would get sticky soon enough. He was kneeling before me, shifting closer and circling his hand around my knee, hitching it around his leg. I was propped up on my elbows, watching, dazzled, as he pushed into me with a fierce fervour. I screamed at the friction it caused. Holy mother of fucking Christ! I hoped and prayed that Rose had stormed off home already. I didn't want fucking interruptions.

He filled me all the way to the hilt and I groaned at the feel of his tip hitting my inside walls.

A sheen of sweat had dewed up over his forehead and chest. I wanted to lick his entire body.

One hand held my knee and the other had my hip in a vice grip. He pulled in and out again, rocking his hips against me and causing the most erotic things to happen to my body. I was sweaty and flustered but who the fuck cared? He plunged in deeper, shifting slightly and pulling my leg higher around to his waist, then up on his shoulder. He gained better entrance and once he pushed in again, deeper than last time, he hit a sensitive spot that left me a quivering fucking mess. "Again! Oh fuck again!" I cried. "So wet. So fucking tight and wet for me," he growled, eyeing me like meal. Whatever, you can fucking eat me, I don't care!

"Argh! Fuck, Edward!"I hissed. His hands moved frantically, his brows furrowing in concentration. I was gasping and moaning like a lunatic. Then, those magical fucking fingers moved to pleasure me more. He spread my lips wider, playing with my swollen clit. I growled, pushing my hips into him and gasping breathlessly. I saw spots in my vision and I wondered if I would fucking pass out.

"Come on, Bella. Come for me. I know you fucking want to." He growled again. I bit my lip and watched as our connected bodies moved together, flesh against flesh. He thumbed my clit harder and I cried out, gripping my hair.

I couldn't take it anymore. He picked up the pace, both with the thrusts and with his manual ministrations on my sensitive mound. The wetness built up like an Indonesian flood and all hell broke loose. My walls clenched around his steel cock, he still pounded relentlessly. My release finally fucking came and I became a hysterical orgasmic mess. I felt like crying and laughing and screaming all at the same time.

I settled for screaming, unable to hold it back any longer. "Oh, fuck! I'm coming! Edwarrrddd!" My toes curled and my hands fisted, my nails digging into my palms. Edward's hands grasped my skin tighter, likely leaving more marks for tomorrow. His teeth clenched and he rode out the blissful train to climax land. He shuddered and exploded inside me. He put a hand on either side of my head, panting with his eyes closed, having trouble holding himself up anymore.

I smiled goofily up at him—it didn't feel forced or smug. I felt...whole. His eyes opened and sparked with life as he took in my rare expression. Our bodies stayed connected as he leaned on top of me, planting kisses over my face before tenderly taking my bottom lip between his.

He brushed sweaty strands of hair from my face, wrapping one arm around my waist and shifting us so he was on his back and I was on my side, half on top of him. I rested my head on his chest as we rode out the awesome fucking wave of pleasure.

Now, I'm pretty sure my_ pussy_ wasn't the only thing singing.

***waggles eyebrows***

**aheh. Sorry I kept you guys waiting. I've been having ideas for so many other fics and its frustrating when you try to remember it as well as think of new ideas and shizz for your old and much loved ones.**

**But I did it and it will only go forward from here. :)**

**Love you guys!**

**Reviews are better than finding sticky stuff on the bar *wrinkles nose***


	12. Beautiful Monster

**So, you know, if you really love me and all, you will go check out **_Like a Moth to A Flame- by Bellalullabye09_** cause that story is amazing! And I am kind of upset and going through withdrawals...I NEED someone to update DurtyNelly's **_Buried among the Bergonias_**! Like, now. So, I can go back to being normal instead of a creepy girl who sits at her computer all day waiting for an update...oh wait, thats me acting normal..whatever. Anywho!**

**I would also like to reccomend...ahh...**_First Love Lost._** I haven't read all of it yet, and I have to admitt that I'm kind of scared to. I'm afraid it will have a bad ending :( I don't do well with the sad ones. Like the other day, I went and saw "The Time Travellers Wife"-(Eric Banner really went up in my hotness scale, nice! And he's an AUSSIE! OI OI OI) I fucking cried so hard!! Loved that movie--excellent. Um, I also bought this book the other day...it was called "Nightlight" and its pretty much a parody of Twilight, where it takes the shit out of the book. It can be fucking funny. I only like that stuff because its cool to see what people come up with--only when its intelligent stuff. Other than that, there is nothing that makes me angrier than someone bagging out Twilight because it's gay. Um, hello? Do you not see the heterosexual nature of the book? Is there ANYONE gay in that book? Though, I guess that would be murphy's law wouldn't it--God making the hottest man on Earth a flaming homosexual. *sigh* At least he'd be good with shopping.**

**But no! I must protest! Twilight is my religion and I know I've been known to bag out Scientology and crap (seriously, a sci-fi writer founded it) but this is SERIOUS!**

**Anyways, enough of me talking. How are you guys?**

**Enjoy!**

"Argh! Harder!" I groaned into the pillow, my voice muffled slightly.

Edward grunted as he thrust harder into me from behind. His hands gripped my hips and ass as he thrust his sweet cock in and out. My hair was sweaty, sticking to the skin on my face and neck as we fucked each other into a frenzied, grunting oblivion.

Once on the bar just wasn't enough. My resolve was being slowly chipped away—well, it was more like someone had poured corrosive acid over it. In other words, I was in no position to make Edward leave, nor did I really want him to.

I whimpered a little at the thought of him moving away.

I felt guilty because I had pre-meditated plans to do that exact thing. Thinking about him leaving me...all alone...to be stone cold bitter again was more than I could handle. My body tensed up but not in the good way. I couldn't help the strangled cry that escaped my throat.

I was so horrible to him—I felt so wrong. Edward stopped immediately.

"Bella? Are you okay? Shit! Did I hurt you?" he asked frantically, removing himself from inside me.

I whimpered louder at the loss of contact. He took it the wrong way, assuming it was his fault or that he had been too rough. In actual fact, I'd wanted him to go harder and faster. I was on my hands and knees, my ass sticking up in the air toward Edward. He moved around to my side and I collapsed face down onto the comforter—Edward's comforter. His strong, pale hands slid under my stomach and over my back, moving me effortlessly so I was on my side.

Had I just halted sex to cry? There was seriously something going on with me. Something I wasn't used to.

Feelings. I sobbed and sniffled. Edward was fucking helpless, scooting down the pillows until he was on his back, his body flush against mine.

I squeezed my eyes shut. "I'm so sorry, Bella." He whispered, horrified. I shook my head and mumbled 'no'. "It wasn't you. Don't worry." I murmured into the fabric, not daring to look into his eyes. If I did, I would see the reflection of the bitter monster staring back at me. I didn't want to look at her anymore. But Edward wouldn't have any of that. He breathed a short sigh of relief before his arms circled around my waist and he pulled me to his chest, just like he did on the bar.

"What is upsetting you?" he asked, pulling my face up by my chin. I kept my eyes cast downwards.

"Why won't you look at me?" he said, stroking my hair back from my cheeks. I sighed and looked up at him, his eyes filled with such a ferocious concern that it made my heart contract and explode. "I...I-I'm just...sorry." His eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "Sorry? Sorry for what?" he questioned softly.

I rolled my eyes, at least I still had that part of me intact. It was so incredibly fucking obvious what I should be apologising for.

"For everything," I hissed, staring into his eyes. His face softened but a shred of understanding flashed over his features before he could keep his face flat.

"Yeah," I muttered. "You know what I'm talking about. And_ don't_," I began with my finger held up. "Don't try and tell me that it doesn't matter now. Don't say that you don't know what I'm talking about, either." He nodded, 'okay'. I let out a breath, wiping under my eyes and gathering the tears. Stupid, fucking, human behaviour. I swallowed loudly, Edward's eyes scrutinising every movement I made, as if he was worried I was lying about being hurt. I wasn't physically hurting, though.

This sudden mental anguish over something that hadn't even happened was suspiciously odd on my part.

I didn't have guilt or shame...I was self-absorbed, selfish, any word with 'self' on the beginning you could usually peg me with. I knew this. But Edward had—for some unfathomable reason—changed that part of me. I didn't know how I felt about it. Letting myself feel just opened the motherfucking flood gates for all the pent up emotions I had kept hidden and closed up inside for years now. I started to panic—there was no fucking barrier! My hands clenched and my breathing sped in anxiety.

How would I get through this without my motherfucking mask? It was worse than walking around a church naked—I felt exposed and ashamed of what people would see. Then there was my tether to Earth, to sanity. Edward's hand closed around one of my fists, prised it open and smoothed it across his bare chest.

"What's wrong? Tell me what's on your mind." He pleaded, running his fingers over my knuckles. I lifted my head slightly to look him straight in the eye. He looked straight back—penetrating green eyes. I felt him then—I felt all of him, his emotions, his soul, bared before me and I knew he saw the exact same in my eyes. There was no black void there anymore. I was naked before the fucking crowd—or to a lesser extent, Edward. It was hard to define whether that was good or bad.

Probably both. After being numb for so long, I felt like I was in shock from the sensory overload. Everything felt sharper and more in focus, but that left me vulnerable. I finally got my mouth to move, barely any volume to my whispers. "I don't know what's happening to me," I told him truthfully. He looked worried, as if my feelings affected his so greatly. Seriously, after watching me cry he looked like someone had taken a dump on his favourite Matisse painting or something.

Shit.

"I feel so...vulnerable." I was shaking my head, trying to will it not to be true. But that was useless.

Edward's hands moved to my face, stopping it's movements and holding my face still. "So, what's the matter?" he pressed. "I don't know how to switch it off." I whispered, eyes wide and pleading. Maybe Edward had the answers I sought after. Maybe he could tell me why I was feeling this way.

"Switch what off? Bella?" he continued, still not understanding. My lip trembled, I was embarrassed and inexperienced at this whole emotional crap thing.

"I-I don't...I mean, I just...I can't..." I stutter for the right words as he waited patiently for an answer. I took a deep breath. "I," I started off slowly. "Can't turn off the feelings I have. I can't stop them. You," I breathed into his face. "You did something to me. And now, everything has changed. I don't know if I can go back to the old me." Then after saying that, I looked down for a moment before gathering enough courage to speak my next words. Words that I never knew were in my fucking vocabulary.

"I'm scared." I admitted. Edward stared, dumbfounded. "I'm scared and I want you to promise me something." He nodded, still bewildered.

I nodded before gathering my next bout of courage. I let out a shaky breath, squinting my eyes shut, but that only made the desperate tears flow thicker and faster down my flushed cheeks. Motherfucking tears. Jesus, they just wouldn't fucking stop, the stubborn fuckers. I grumbled.

"Ugh, I _hate_ crying!" I complained before sighing. I looked back at Edward. "Just...don't make me do this alone. I've had four years of alone." I shook my head.

"Don't leave." I begged in a whisper, feeling so fucking pathetic that I was actually asking for _Newbie _to stay with _me._ I thought he would be the pussy shit to ask first. I sighed in defeat, waiting for his rebuff or rejection. "Of course." My head snapped up. I frowned. "Really?" He nodded certainly. I let out a shocked breath. He actually said yes? He accepted to stick around with me? Was I dreaming? I wasn't so sure anymore. Well, if it was a dream, a creation of my mind, I didn't want to ever wake up.

I glanced around the room, unable to help the smile that formed on my mouth. Edward smiled in return, his pink lips looking delicious and edible. I licked my lips, his eyes flickered down to my tongue. His eyes darkened almost imperceptibly to the normal person's vision. But I knew better. Edward had classic 'horny' face.

I smirked only seconds before he threw me back on the bed. I gasped, excited. An upside to no emotional barricade around my brain—I could experience sex better. All the nerve endings in my body came alive as Edward's steel cock was enveloped in my hot centre.

I groaned, my knees bending and nearly coming up to my chest as he rode into me.

I kept my legs hitched up to his waist, grazing along his torso. I clenched down on his solid member, earning a powerful growl from Edward. He was panting along with me, exhausted from our sexual escapades. My clit rubbed against him with every movement he made.

I gasped and moaned out his name with every pleasurable pump.

"Fuck me, Edward!" I screamed. "I am." He answered in a huff as he continued to slide in and out of me harder. His hands were circled around my knees, travelling down my thighs, to my hips then my waist. His thumbs massaged over my nipples before one of his hands travelled down to my belly button.

I watched his face, eyes locked with my own as he advanced to my slick folds. Only wet for him. I groaned, letting my eyes roll back in my head as his fingers found fucking purchase. "Oh my fucking lord," I whimpered. He began rubbing circles on the sensitive mound, earning sounds from me that were not far from some wild hog. I let my hands crawl up his sides as he stroked me into a fiery haze of bliss. "Are you going to come hard for me?" he asked sharply. I moaned.

Oh, fuck, how I did love his dirty talk. "Fucking come for me!" he growled. He pulled out only to slam in twice as hard while simultaneously pushing his fingers into my swollen nub. "Jesus Christ! Oh my God! Fuck! Cunt! Vishnu! Buddha! Zeus!" I panted, not realising what I was saying.

To my ears it was just a jumbled mess. Edward came hard, growling as he released his hot cum inside my walls.

I gasped at the feel of him. His eyes were closed and I still couldn't stop my body from shuddering, still off on the climax of a life time. Fucking hell, this man was awesome. And, he was all mine. For now, at least. When he finally looked into my eyes, he had an amused expression, a smirk on his face.

"I didn't know you called out different Gods when you came." He said, quirking an eyebrow. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Live it up, Newbie. You're the fucking God when it comes to...cumming." I smiled. He chuckled, not making an attempt to move out of me. His hot breath fanned across my face, I felt myself unconsciously breathing it in. "I've only come that hard for you," I whispered. His eyes narrowed and he pressed his entire body over mine so not a part of our bodies were left un-touching. "In fact," I gulped. "I've never come for anyone _but_ you." He seemed to be satisfied with that.

"Good." He responded, licking his tongue over my bottom lip. I moved my hands to his face to secure it there.

"I'm glad I've been the only man who's given that to you." He noted. I bit my lip. "So...does that mean...that _Southern_ guy didn't?" he sneered 'southern'. Wow, racist.

Oh, well. I was never outwardly racist, hell, I had a Native American boyfriend. I knew Edward just carried a prejudiced against Jasper, the _Southerner_, because he caught us that time in the basement when I was supposed to...well, _not_ be screwing people in the basement. I smiled coyly at him.

"No...he didn't." I replied honestly. A brooding fire lit up behind his eyes. I watched in wonder. "He couldn't make a fucking girl come to save his Southern soul. Poor dear," I commented with a sigh. Edward flipped onto his back, dragging me with him so I rested against his chest.

He combed his fingers through my hair down my back. His other hand rested on my forearm. He linked our fingers then and squeezed. "Do you still talk to him?" he asked casually. I narrowed my eyes then but didn't look up. "From time to time," I answered. Only on occasion did I get a text or call from Jasper—but I had always conveniently declined.

If I was horny, I wasn't going to get a lame ass fuck from someone who couldn't do the job right. Like wanting some collagen but instead of going to the expensive surgeons who lived in Beverly Hills, you go to the guy in the alley behind the Wal-mart who offers a two for one Tuesday special every second week for boob implants or Botox injections. But anyway, that was beside the point. I wasn't going to get a fix from Jasper if I could help it.

I'm happy Edward has decided to replenish my...needs.

From anywhere else, I would have been unsatisfied for some reason. "Are you still having sex with him?" he asked, looking at our hands. I sighed. "Why does it matter?" His brow came together and his nostrils flared. I conceded. "No," I breathed.

"I've only slept with him the once." I said frankly. He let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "So..." I began, not quite sure what to do.

"Do you want this to be exclusive?" I wondered aloud. "I mean, we don't have to...we can still see other people..." I trailed off, trying to stamp down the jealous bitch that was rearing her head inside me. The thought of being with someone other than Edward made me want to barf, too. "I don't want you to go off and fuck someone else." He said quickly.

"I don't want someone else touching you." A warm, molten feeling swelled in my chest and I smiled bashfully, my cheeks flaming. His fingers brushed them. "I've never seen you blush before," he murmured. "I caused that." He stated matter-of-factly. He looked into my eyes.

"I don't want someone else to be able to do that to you." It sounded like he was hammering out a list of ground rules, mostly regulating _my_ behaviour. He pulled my face up to his and kissed me tenderly on the mouth. I sighed then moaned deeply as his tongue slid along my lip.

I sat up, straddling his waist. "I want to be the only one who sees you on top of me. And," he paused, sitting up.

I wrapped my legs around his hips. His arms wrapped tightly around my torso. "I only want it to be _my_ name you scream out...I want you to be mine and mine only." He told me. I nodded. Who the fuck would have the fucking nerve to argue? I will admit, that I willingly sought out arguments from this man, but now? When he was offering himself to me in exchange for _myself?_ The trade off was in my favour. I'd be crazy not to take this fucking deal. He was shaking his head now.

"I don't want to _fuck_ anyone else." I smiled at him, sucking my bottom lip between my teeth.

"We should get you home. Esme will be wondering where the fuck you've been." He said suddenly.

My smile faltered at his abruptness. "O...kay," I mumbled in befuddlement. I removed myself from his lap, crawling off the bed and gathering my strewn clothing. My poor vag was a little sore from all the fucking pounding it had taken. Jeesh, Edward's cock was a monster.

The beautifully, awesome kind. Like a Pokemon...or Godzilla. I pulled my panties on then my jeans.

I pulled my shirt on and went to venture out in the living room for my shoes and socks—I had taken them off this time. I found one behind the sofa, and the other on the kitchen counter top. I sighed and plopped down on the leather couch, tying my shoes back on. Edward appeared in front of me with just a pair of jeans on.

I couldn't help my fucking entire body from reacting to his presence. My heart rate sped up and my breathing couldn't handle it.

But, most uncomfortable of all, my fucking dry panties were soaked...again. Mother fucker. I would need to buy a shit load of new underwear. I stood up then, running my fingers through my hair to untangle it. It was a mess...because of Edward. My hands trembled slightly as he stood in front of me.

Since when had I become this pussy little bitch? Afraid of the big, bad body guard? My internal voice snorted.

I ignored her. I turned away and began searching for my jacket. I was not going to be taunted by the voice in my head, you know, the one that talked to you at all hours of the night and suggested you go out and do some crazy ass shit. I found my jacket, hanging off the back of an arm chair.

I slid my arms through the holes and shrugged it on. I bit my lip and slowly looked back up at Edward.

His face was normal, quiet and brooding...pondering, really. I took a deep breath and shrugged. "So, are you going to take me home?" I asked.

He smirked.

~~~___~~~

We hadn't exactly worked out all the loops and potholes of this whole...thing, me and Edward had going on. By the next night at work, I was a fucking mess. Okay, so, I wasn't that bad on the outside. But I was going through fucking turmoil in my head.

My walls were still down because of that fucking man and I had no fucking recollection of how I put them up in the first place.

Mother fucking men. I grumbled silently, as usual, so nobody seemed inclined to ask me what the fuck has crawled up my ass over night. They were used to me being this way, so my mood came as a sort of...semi-shield. As long as they didn't approach me and start talking...I wouldn't be able to conceal that something about me had changed. Anyone who looked at me long enough would be able to figure it the fuck out. That scared the ever loving shit out of me.

I hated being this way...but then again... I looked up as Edward stood in the doorway of the dressing room.

My heart rate picked up and my breathing hitched. I wish I could stab these bodily functions without killing myself in the process. I gnashed my teeth together defiantly. I was not about to let him make me a quivering, horny lunatic with the click of his fingers. I stood up from my vanity table, abandoning my attempt at curling my hair.

It was already curly enough. "Ladies," he greeted everyone with that panty-soaking--yeah, not panty dropping, panty_-soaking_--smile_._

They all giggled and chimed in a cheerful chorus of "Hey, Eddie." I almost barfed up my Count Chocula. I also had to resist the urge to rub up against him and claim him as my property. They all thought I hated him—which would have looked like it now, too, cause I was seething like an angry snake in my corner.

I rolled my eyes instead, strutting past Edward. He moved to let me through, not objecting to my obvious lack of happiness.

I heard the door close behind me and the chatter cut off—a muffled background noise now. I turned just in time to watch Edward pin me up against the wall of the corridor. I had to hold back a moan. He leaned in close enough to brush his lips against mine...humming as our faces made contact.

His scent was so delicious—I had to remain calm so I wouldn't devour him right there. As it were, I found that task incredibly fucking hard. "I know you're scared," he whispered. My eyes opened to find him staring at me with a furrowed brow. My hands were tight around his forearms. He had my face cradled in his hands. He leaned our foreheads together. "But, I'm here." He reminded me. "Anything, Bella. Whatever you need." He said. I smirked. "Whatever I need?" I enquired slyly.

He leaned his face back slightly to look at me better. "Besides that. I have to work you know...I can't...be thinking about you like that...not when I have to watch you...out there..." he said. "It's hard enough as it is." I frowned at him and shrugged indifferently.

"Then, don't watch." I offered. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Like I'm going to do that," he retorted. "I need to watch you like a freaking hawk. I can't let myself get distracted for a split second." I looked down at my shoes and sighed. "But, I'm horny." I whined like a five-year-old. He chuckled.

"Believe me, I know how you feel. But...just...hold that thought until later." He begged me with his eyes. I caved.

"Fine," I conceded with a sigh. "Oh, before I forget," He said, leaning back and releasing me from his death-grip. There was a perceptible change in his stance. It was like he was caging me with his arms or something, his posture was defensive, in preparation for an attack. His eyes glanced up and down the hall way like a stealth fighter. What the fuck? I cocked an eyebrow. "What's going on?" I asked, knowing he was desperate to inform me of something important, but having an internal conflict at the same time.

"Don't go anywhere by yourself, okay?" My brow furrowed but I agreed. Not sure where that came from. It sounded like there was more to it, but if there was he didn't say. I just complied with his request, which did more than shock him that I did as he asked for once.

I wondered why he felt so protective now—we were perfectly safe, well mostly safe, at Blood Moon.

What did Edward know that I didn't?

**The love I get from you guys is amazing ;)**

**Love love, love, back to all of you!**

**You are MINE forever, you hear me? MINE. I mark all of you!**

**MWAHAHA!**

**-birobird**

**xoxox**


	13. Kryptonite

**OKay, first of all, and most importantly (for those of you who have seen it) NEW MOON FUCKING ROCKED MY WORLD.**

**Second of all, this isn't what you think.**

**Okay, maybe it is, maybe I've fallen in love with the movie--but maybe we can still be friends...? I mean, we've always been good to each other, apart from the occasiaonly fight but...well, you know.**

**How about we just settle this over a pot of tea--or a naked Edward. I don't know, your choice. Personally, I'd love a bit of Guardward with my hot beverages.**

**Third of all, you guys are awesome with your incessant reviews! You keep me so happy.**

**Fourth, okay, well, come on--seriously, how hot is Rob Pattinson? **drool** right? I almost broke my friends hand I was holding it so hard during that fucking movie (bless it's heart) that has practically, single-handedly, motherfucking destroyed my life and made my expectations of a man higher than mount-fucking-Everest.**

**But you know, love/hate, right?**

**Fifth of all, I hope you enjoy this, my loyal bitches. ;)**

"_Go back to your post, Corporal." my sergeant ordered sharply._

_I nodded in affirmation, robotic and stoic. I was a soldier—I had to be unfeeling, detached, compartmentalised. I took my Sergeant's orders, moving down the side of an abandoned building—demolished from explosives. Iraq—a killing ground. A country war torn. I held my weapon in my hands, my fists clenched tightly around it as if it held every importance. And it did—it was the only thing that was protecting me. I had to wield it properly or die. The choice was simple. _

"_Follow, Cullen." he told the privates who were with us. _

_I stealthily made my way back to my post outside a small bundle of buildings—also empty. It was a ghost town. Loud banging sounded—a whistling. I whirled, my battle instincts settling in. _

"_Get down!" I shouted to the man behind me. _

_He swore, dropping to his knees and crawling behind the brick wall he had just rounded. I quickly followed after, my uniform getting covered in dirt. I pressed my back up against the concrete and turned to face my companion. _

"_Stay down," I ordered. _

_He nodded once. More gunshots sounded from the roofs of the surrounding buildings. _

"_Fuck!" I muttered, checking my weapon to make sure it wasn't jammed. _

_The group of five men—young, frightened men, fell against the wall too. They held their guns to their chests, leaning their heads back and muttering out either a curse or a prayer. I breathed deeply. _

"_Nobody moves without my orders, got it?" I said to them. _

_A cocky private stood up, right in the middle of the firing. _

"_What the fuck is wrong with you?" I roared, grabbing his leg. _

_He moved from my grasp. I swore again—fucking idiot might get everyone of us killed. The pounding of led against every surface we sat near alerted me to the situation we were in. We may not get out. We may not go home after this. I tried reaching for the stupid son of a bitch who was going to get us all killed. _

"_I said, get down!" I roared. _

_He held his gun up, firing over my head. _

"_Get down!" another one of my men chastised hastily, getting up onto his knees. _

_The sound was the worst thing in the world. The sound of a bullet through bone. Private Masen dropped to the gravel, his blood splattering his comrades. Eyes glazed, he rolled half onto his back. The sky reflected in his lifeless eyes—an image imprinted into my brain forever. I wiped at the blood on my face that was not mine. The cocky bastard dropped to his knees, realising his stupidity had caused his friend to die. _

"_Fuck!" he yelled. _

_I grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, hauling him back to the wall. Two hours later, and we unloaded three rounds each—saving the rest of our lives through sheer luck and good aim. We attended to Private Masen—carrying his body back to base so he could be sent home to a grieving family. Once we were back in the barracks, Sergeant Varner stormed in. _

"_Would you like to tell me what the fuck happened out there?" he shouted, hatred and disbelief clear in his eyes._

_I ran a stressed hand over my shaved head, kicking my foot into the bunk—my movement full of rage. _

"_Ask Private Walker, sir." I retorted. _

_After years in service, not one man had died under my watch. He changed that. He got someone killed. This was on his head. Sergeant Varner looked to Private Walker—the blonde dick. The gunshots still rung in my ears—deafening. It would haunt me forever. Private Walker straightened up, his face cold and emotionless—almost as if he hadn't been at fault at all. _

"_It was an accident." he defended. _

"_Bullshit!" I spat, glancing between him and my superior. _

"_Don't believe that shit, sir. If it weren't for him, Masen would be going home to his family alive instead of a fucking body bag." _

_Private Walker stared at me—his grey eyes sparked with hatred and loath, betrayal. I glowered back—he may as well have been a murderer..._

I sat bolt upright.

Gasping for air, my lungs ached painfully for it. A hand caressed my arm. I growled, shoving at the object beside me—my mind was mess of violence, of blood—the blood of a friend. Those fierce grey eyes of his held no remorse.

I hadn't dreamt about him, or Private Walker for that matter in months, if not an entire year. But things change. Especially when you hear someone from your past could be back in your life. It took me a few moments to register where I was—to differentiate between the dusty battle field and the warm sheets of my bed. My chest rose and fell with each strangled breath. It took another moment to realise I had struck someone—who was in my bed? An ear-splitting shriek reverberated through the darkness, catching me off guard. I flung myself off the bed and down onto the floor where Bella was slumped, her head bleeding. I was breathing harder than before—fears worse than death consumed me. My hands hovered over her face, afraid to touch her.

"Bella?" I whispered in a strangled voice.

She had her hand clutched to her forehead, a line of blood dropped onto her shirt—my shirt.

"Fuck," I muttered.

I reached up to the lamp on the nightstand, switching it on. The room was bathed in a soft yellow glow. I leaned back down to Bella, gingerly gathering her tiny body up in my arms and sitting her back on the bed. She must have hit her head on the corner of the nightstand when I shoved her away. She was only trying to help. I felt a sick feeling settle in my stomach—the feeling that came with the knowledge that I had hurt her. Made her bleed.

"Bella, I am so sorry," I murmured helplessly.

Nothing like this had ever happened. I had never been violent toward a woman—on purpose or by accident. Bella should feel safe when she was around me. She had trusted me—I had thrown her against the fucking furniture. What a fucking stand-up guy I was. My gut wrenched, a lump rose in my throat as I stared at her face. She hadn't uttered a word, except for the scream that alerted me to reality once more.

She was silent, her eyes betraying no emotions as I grabbed one of my shirts that lay on the floor and held the cotton fabric to her head. She took it off me, grabbing the shirt and pressing it to the bleeding—she winced, I cringed in response. I ducked my head, leaning it against her knees as I stared at the floor, unworthy of looking at her face. Her slender fingers came under my chin, pulling my face upright. I sighed, staring into her eyes—she didn't look...scared or angry. She looked apologetic.

"We all have secrets," she murmured. "We all have pasts."

She sighed and pointed to her head.

"I know you didn't do this on purpose. That's just fucking stupid—you're my body guard for Christ's sake."

My mouth twitched, almost spreading into a smile.

"I'm sorry, Bella," I mumbled against her legs, burying my face in her lap.

She combed her hand through my hair as I whimpered like a little fucking pussy.

"Do you..." she began, not sounding as confident or snarky as before.

I looked up at her inquisitively.

"Do you want to talk...about...what happened?" she asked, somewhat uncomfortable—she wasn't used to sharing feelings, memories or emotions.

This was all foreign territory. Should I tell her? I knew she had been wondering what the fuck has been wrong with me tonight after I cryptically told her never to be by herself. But if I told her, would that be adding more unnecessary stress when I was capable of keeping her safe? Nevertheless, she was a grown woman and she would have my balls if she knew that I thought she's get stressed over something like this. I considered it for a moment. But I finally deduced that I would leave it until another night—I could be evasive, though.

So, I told her about my dream.

~~~___~~~

"That's...awful," she murmured.

I nodded in agreement—would she ever know _how_ awful?

Doubtful. First-hand experience always won out over hearing about it something like this. We were sitting cross legged on my bed, facing each other. Bella sighed, taking in everything, her eyes wide and staring.

"That, Private Walker guy sounds like the biggest douche," she noted.

"Yeah," I mumbled, dejected.

But it did feel good to talk—if not to a shrink, then someone I trusted and cared about. More than I thought possible for a broken soul like me. Bella uncrossed her legs and crawled toward me. I cocked an eyebrow. She nestled into my lap, straddling me. She put her arms around my neck before staring me in the eyes.

"Do you always have those dreams?" she enquired.

Huh. She always knew the right questions to ask—the right ones, but the worst ones. I sighed and decided to be evasive again.

"Sometimes," I murmured, brushing her hair from her face absently.

She nodded...biting her lip.

"I, uh...I have dreams sometimes..."

My eyes flicked to her instantly. Was she going to talk to me about...her problems? I listened intently, fisting my hands in the loose t-shirt she still wore—just the t-shirt, which came down to her mid-thigh. She let out a long and gusty breath.

"My...father, he died a few years ago." she mumbled.

I could see her flipping through ghosts of memories—her eyes glazed over, sparks of emotion flickering between them like static.

"Your father died?" I asked softly. She nodded, sucking a breath between her teeth.

"He was the best Dad...that I could have had," she sighed then looked me in the eye. "I know that sounds fucking hyperbolic."

I shook my head, absolutely not. There was a difference between saying that about the people who deserved it than when someone just says it—not caring about the meaning. My heart broke for her—this must be part of the reason she was an icy shell for the entire time she lived here, in Chicago, with Esme.

"He, uh...he died in a car accident."

She glanced at me then went on.

"It was four years ago. I used to live with my mother, but her husband..." she trailed off, shaking her head in disgust.

I gulped—this sounded like a common enough situation: mother remarries, child doesn't like her new husband and moves to live with her father.

But I couldn't help but think there was more to it than common dislike. I frowned but didn't interrupt. She breathed deeply again.

"My mother was oblivious..." she murmured, her eyes distant—her head wasn't even in the room with me.

It was far away. By the looks of her, it wasn't a good place. She squeezed her eyes shut—that's when I noticed her tears. I sucked in a breath, she was crying again. In some ways I was glad—that I was the only one she felt comfortable enough to be emotional around. But it killed me to see her in pain.

"Can we sleep now?" she asked, sniffling.

I nodded without a word. I held up a finger to her, telling her to wait a second. I stood up from the bed and sauntered into the bathroom in search of some anti-septic. Once I had her all cleaned up—I felt sick that it was me who did it—I helped her under the covers. It was nearly eight in the morning. The curtains were drawn, they kept out most of the light so we could sleep. Esme had stayed back at the bar that night again—so Bella was free to stay over my house.

Nobody would be expecting her at home. We could drop by her house so she could get some clean clothes before work. But right now, we needed sleep—watching her dance was taking it out of me. I was doing double the work, restraining the men in the club from doing Bella, restraining myself from doing Bella and restraining myself from pounding the fuckers that had the same intention that I did. The difference was, Bella _wanted_ me—I could actually have her. I collapsed back onto my pillow, pulling Bella closer and draping my arm over her torso.

I hugged her tight, burying my face in her hair.

BPOV

That shit had scared the fuck out of me.

I mean, Christ, I was terrified when I woke to Edward shouting in his sleep. I thought there had been a fucking burglar—admittedly, I know he would have neutralised him within minutes, I would have helped, but that didn't stop me from freaking out.

That was until I realised nobody was there, Edward was just having a nightmare—an extremely fucking violent one. I had tried in vain to comfort him only to be back handed and shoved into the fucking nightstand. I didn't hold it against him—it wasn't his fault, I knew with my entire being that he would never do that intentionally. He had been so disgusted with himself. The next morning he had apologised profusely, noting the now fresh bruise on my head. I just shook it off—unimportant. He insisted on seeing a doctor. I already knew what those knob jockeys were going to tell me anyway. Keep plenty of water in your system, don't wear yourself out and take some Tylenol for the pain. Fuck easy. I didn't have to worry.

And as for my appearance, Esme had cover-up as thick as paint. Edward kept asking me if I was feeling alright—I assured him that I was fine. Because I was. He was just busting a nut over fucking nothing. But the emotional display I had put on last night was really stupid of me. I'm sure Edward wouldn't want to see that shit. Okay, so maybe he was happy that I could be...emotional with him. But that didn't mean I liked doing it. It really made me nervous that I could become so vulnerable around him. But at the same time, I was getting stronger the longer we were together. He still hadn't elaborated on why he was acting so weird around me yet. _Don't go anywhere by yourself._ I pondered it over and over until my head really started to fucking throb. But it was no use. Maybe it was just because that now we were seeing each other, he felt the irrational need to take care of me like I was the most fragile thing on Earth. What pissed me off about that was because that was exactly how I felt.

Weak, defenceless. I began to think Esme was noticing the difference, I mean, I was actually smiling at people now. She was bound to work out I was getting laid by the sexiest, man on Earth. I had re-named him from Newbie to Fuckward. In a good way of course. I would tell him about it later, he's sure to like it. Any stroke to his ego would send it sky-rocketing out of control. I had to say so for myself also.

"Hey, Rosie. Jess." I greeted as I strolled in to get ready.

They both looked up at the same time in shock. They stared at me intently, frowning in confusion at my sudden sense of cordialness. I averted their gaze, afraid that experience ladies like them would work out why I was so fuck-happy. It's because I was getting fucked, and well, by someone so fantastic. I quickly picked up my hair brush and absently ran it through my hair in order to keep their inquisitive eyes off my trail.

"What do you think, Jess?" Rose stage-whispered.

I turned to roll my eyes at them.

"Drugs? Booze? Sex?" Jess offered.

I flinched a little on the last one. Rose gasped loudly.

"You're getting some, aren't you baby Bella?" she crowed.

My mouth fell open. I quickly closed it to hide my astonishment. I knew these chicks were good. They obviously had an orgasm detector in their brains, knowing if someone had been freshly fucked or something trippy like that. Maybe I gave off a glow...or pheromone that they could smell...

"Wait, wait, wait!" Jess protested, glancing between me and Rose.

I just looked at them in a bored manner, hoping to make them think they had it wrong.

"Who would it be, though? I know that Southern junk hasn't been back in here lately." She appealed to Rose.

Rose screwed her nose up then pursed her lips in consideration. I looked away, not liking the third-degree.

"They must be someone of close quarters." She noted, circling my chair like I was a convicted crim they suspected in a homicide case. I had to hand it to Rose, she was fucking perceptive when she wanted to be. The crazy bitch could be a fucking fortune teller. She probably wouldn't make as much as she would here, though.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I asked, attempting to sound nonchalant and innocent.

Rose gasped again and turned to Jessica.

"Could it be someone who works here?" she asked in a hurry.

I frowned—bitch was fucking good. I had to stay indifferent. Jessica looked back to me. They were on either side of my chair now, staring at me through the mirror like creepy burlesque interrogators. Jessica stared at me intently. I continued brushing my hair.

"Oh my god, it is!" she agreed.

I sighed.

"But, who?" Rose asked again—they acted as if I couldn't fucking hear them.

I decided to cut the conversation short, grabbing my costume and deciding to change in the bathrooms before my show. They both laughed as I left the room.

~~~___~~~

Without so much as a warning, Edward grabbed me from behind and pulled me against his body. I had been backstage whilst Rose and Jess were doing a special duet. They were just on the other side of the curtain, but Edward proceeded to lick up and down my neck. I groaned quietly, biting my lip.

"I can't keep doing this," Edward hissed into my ear, making me shiver.

"You're like kryptonite...You're going to destroy me." He murmured.

My chuckle was cut short when I gasped—his hand travelling between my thighs.

"You can't keep your hands to yourself, can you, Newbie." I stated, knowing it wasn't a question.

He chuckled, it made me tingle in my most holy of areas.

"Not at all." He conceded, slipping his fingers under the fabric of my mini-shorts.

I may as well just call them lingerie, they were so short. I gasped again, biting my lip as he parted my slick folds.

"You want it as much as I do. You're already soaking wet." He whispered, his hot breath brushing my ear.

I squeezed my eyes shut, licking my lips in anticipation. There were people, a mere sheet of fabric away and we were doing _this_ just on the other side. I had to admit, if the curtain was pulled back, we'd get even more customers. However, I don't think neither me nor Edward would enjoy that very much.

"I'm so fucking wet for you," I said, leaning my head back against his shoulder as he started rubbing me.

"I couldn't wait until we were at my place, or yours. I needed to touch you—_now_."

I agreed. My hand moved down his thigh and back up again, rubbing over the bulge in his pants. He hissed, hot, into my ear, dipping his fingers inside me. I bit down hard on my lip, holding back a loud groan. He breathed heavily in my ear, nipping at the flesh on my neck. He ran his tongue down the length of my jaw, his stubble tickling my skin. His other hand curled around my waist, skimming over my stomach before cupping my breast.

"Shit!" I hissed, louder than before.

"Shh," he hushed against my skin before he picked up the pace—sliding his two fingers in and out of my hot centre.

I thought that I should give him something in return—as a thank you. Edward had his back against the wall. I reached back and rubbed his hard cock over the fabric of his pants. He growled against my throat. I smiled in accomplishment.

"So hard for me, Edward?" I asked, but my voice was breathless and weak as he stroked my nub harder.

I arched my back off of him, bucking my hips against his hand. I popped the button of his pants, unzipping them and reaching beneath the waist band of his boxers. I encountered his steel shaft and moaned.

Edward grunted, moving his hips against my hand just as I did. I started slowly, tightening my fist and rubbing him.

"Fucking hell!" he grunted, letting his head fall forward against my shoulder.

I could feel my walls begin to clench—coating Edward's fingers. I was so close to the edge. I pumped his cock harder—I wanted him to cum with me. I wanted us to both feel it at the same time. With a final stroke, I was falling apart against him. I moaned, my body had a spasm around his fingers. I rippled with pleasure—Edward finally let go of his load. The blood rushed to my face, leaving me flushed but extremely happy. He came into my hand with a low groan. A glittering sheen of sweat coated my forehead. Edward pulled his fingers from inside my shorts. I moved forward a little so I could turn around to face him. He had a smug smile on his mouth. I smiled back. I pushed him hard against the wall again, stretching up on my toes to kiss him. I caught his bottom lip between my teeth. We were interrupted by my name being called from the DJ booth. I sighed and hastily detached myself. I gave Edward one last chaste kiss before fleeing to the stage.

Jess and Rosalie nodded to me as I past them—they were both topless. I smirked at them and nodded back before taking my position on the dim platform. I grabbed hold of the shiny metallic pole and got started.

I noticed Edward had reappeared in the back, watching me intently and glaring at the male patrons every now and then. I smiled the entire night.

~~~___~~~

It was a Wednesday night—a slow night for Blood Moon. Esme had ordered me to go home—apparently I had worked like a dog the entire week. I grudgingly agreed. I would much rather dance around sweaty men as long as I got to be close to Edward than be at home alone with nothing to do—at least at the club I would be earning money.

Before I left, Edward snuck me a quick kiss in the parking lot.

"Have fun," I mocked, acting as if the prospect of going home alone was awesome.

Yeah, right.

"Be safe." He said seriously.

I frowned, not bothering to ask him why he said that—he probably wouldn't tell me anyway. It can't be that important. I sighed and leaned out of my window. He leaned against the frame. I caught his face in my hands and planted a tender kiss on his lips.

"I think Tanya is doing a montage tonight," I said.

Edward groaned. I laughed.

"I hate you." He sighed, smiling.

I laughed again.

"Love you, too." I said in a mock-shocked voice.

Edward frowned, caught off guard by what I just said. I may as well have thrown myself to the mother fucking wolves. I shook my head, clearing it of the haze that had caused me to burst that out. Edward stayed silent for a moment. I decided I had better get home—I didn't want him to feel obliged to say anything.

I didn't mean it, after all—I don't think.

"I'll, uh, see you later, 'kay?" I asked.

He nodded mutely, letting go of the car as I peeled out of my parking space. I chastised myself the entire ride home. How fucking stupid and weak could I keep getting?

I was growling out curses until I got to my floor, staying mute until I could fly off the handle behind my closed front door. I was only in the house for five minutes before I heard a knock at the door.

I sighed. I really wanted to vent right now, I didn't need someone interrupting. I frowned at that thought before stalking to the door.

"Ugh, this better be important." I mumbled, not bothering to look through the peek-hole. I unlatched the door and twisted the locks. I let the door fall open, it hit the wall.

"W-what are you doing here?" I asked, breathlessly.


	14. Iridescent

**Okay, bitches, I got a lot to talk about.**

**First of all: THE COUNTDOWN TO CHRISTMAS will be starting soon so ya'll better hop to Breathoftwilight's profile to check it out on December 1st. There will be a series of one-shots from different authors, including, yours truly. ANOTHER thing, is that they all have lemons in them :) And at the end, there will be a major collaberation piece that I will also have a hand in, as well as amazing writers (all much better than me) lol. So yeah, be sure to check it out and review it!**

**Second of all: Um, my reviewers for last chapter! Thank you guys so much, you are tryly amazing! Haha, but you love/hate those cliffies, don't ya? Haha.**

**Third of all: OMG NEW MOON--I saw it again. I know **collective gasp** I saw it twice in..two/three days. Whatever, I'm sure there are worse people out there than me, okay? Like people bad, human-killing vampires :F Anywho..**

**Fourth: I'm pretty sure there was also something else. Hmm..Um, Durtynelly FINALLY updated Buried Among The Burgonias. I was going fricken insane. I dont know if I've mentioned that in a previous chapter or whatever. It must mean that I'm still pysched. Um, there was seriously something else! OH! If any of you read "The Office", I think you have all read the Epilogue, well I only read it today and I fucking loved it! AWESOME STUFF.**

**Well, i think thats it. LOVE YOU GUYS! 3**

"W-What are you doing here?" I asked breathlessly.

Renee's golden brown locks bounced around her face as she trembled with excitement. Her huge grin spread across her face—her sun-tanned, cheery, ignorant face. I gulped, finally registering the chunk of human standing behind her. My breath caught in my throat. Renee giggled lightly, like a child.

"Finally you answer the door!" she crows, inviting herself past me into my home.

I was numb and I couldn't move. I stared down at their passing feet as they entered. I finally got a hold of my sanity—as little as it was at the moment—and turned to face them, closing the door behind me.

"Uhh...so, why are you here?" I repeated my earlier question.

Renee tended to get side-tracked easily. If I didn't know any better, I'd think she had ADHD. Even though I had gathered enough strength to talk and demand an explanation—it was still difficult to comprehend the fucking enormity of it. Glancing around my apartment—mine and Esme's—Renee had a look of awe sheen her face. I folded my arms across my chest, leaning up against the wall closest to the kitchen as she shrugged out of her jacket, slinging it over one of the dining chairs. She must have just noticed again that I was in the room and she was not alone. She looked back at me and smiled wide.

"It's our anniversary, silly!" she laughed.

Realisation dawned on me. My blood ran cold—I looked away from her face and out the floor-to-roof window. It was a full moon tonight, a tinge of red stained the glow, circling it and emanating an eerie air. I breathed out. He was here. My eyes flicked to Phil who stood off to the side, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Going along with my mother's attitude, it was easy to deduce that she still hadn't figured it the fuck out. Figured out the reason I left home in the first place.

"Oh," was all I could spit out in my state of shock.

Usually, it would have taken a lot more than someone's presence to shut me up or leave me speechless, but every time I thought about him or saw him—or even someone who resembled him—my mind would go blank, as if someone had wiped it clean or coated it in acid, removing every intelligible thought from my conscious. I shuddered slightly before staring down at my feet.

"We thought we should come and visit you for a while, as long as we're in town..." she seemed to realise something then too, as she stepped over to the coffee table and picked up a photo frame with me and Esme in it.

She visibly frowned, squinting her eyes before rolling them and smiling again.

"This is your roommate?" she asked, pointing her index finger to the silver frame.

I nodded and she laughed again, an uneasy laugh, embarrassed.

"Phew, I thought she was your girlfriend or something," she chuckled.

I swallowed loudly, not allowing myself to get angry with her. I was in control. I would stay in control of this fucking situation. She smiled fondly then placed the picture back on the glass table, leaving it face-down. I bit my lip as she surveyed my living arrangements. She rubbed her hands together, clasping them in front of her as she gazed around the room.

"You have a beautiful home, Bella. I'm so proud." She commended.

I smiled bitterly. Four years of no contact and this is what she says and does? If I wanted her to speak to me at all, the only words I would want to hear from her fucking mouth were that she was leaving Phil and that she was sorry for what he did. But most of all, she was sorry that she didn't know her daughter well enough to see it.

"It is," Phil concurred.

I tried to keep my breathing even. The mother fucker had no right to come in here and praise me on my beautiful home and/or have any opinion on my life whatsoever. Him being here, in my living space, my sanctuary—it felt like just another violation. Wherever I went, whether it was hiding at a friend's house two miles from home back in Phoenix, or two thousand, in another state—he would always find a way to taint it. For once in my life—I didn't know if I could handle this alone. I made an admission to myself at that moment.

I needed Edward.

"How long will you be here for?" he asked, attempting to keep my voice strong and indifferent.

I also had to keep my eyes on my mother—at least she wasn't such a vile sight to behold.

Still.

I sighed, long and heavy as she counted in her head the days. Her nose scrunched up as if she smelled something bad, but was internally calculating something that should only take a few seconds to work out. She was always a bit limited in the intelligence category. No wonder, she couldn't even get into a community college.

"Um, about three days, at most." She smiled, warmly, walking towards me and pulling me into a tight hug.

I frowned at the feel of her frame against mine. Her ribs protruded from her skin like a picket fence, as I looked closer, her face was paler than usual, not as pale as mine, but still pale nonetheless. Her cheeks were sallow and gaunt, her eyes held unhealthy looking purple bags under them—possibly from sleepless nights or maybe malnutrition. That puzzled me more than anything about her—even though she was a little scatter-brained, she always, and I mean _always_ took care of herself. She ate right, mostly organic even if it was extremely costly. She exercised profusely too, but not too much that it would have a more negative effect than a positive one. I hugged her back, however. She may have been oblivious, and I resent her for that—but there was a sick part of me, one that still ached for her affection, anything to remind me of how someone out there did in fact love me. If only a little bit. She pulled back and put her palm to my cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I struggled out of her hold then, growing uncomfortable under the contact. Mother or not, I decided then, she still did nothing and I wasn't about to forgive her.

"Where are you staying?" I said, distantly, avoiding her eyes now.

"A hotel up the road." Phil interjected before my mother could speak.

I gnashed my teeth together and stared up at Renee then, instead of acknowledging Phil. An aspect of their arrival had me confused.

"Wait, it's eleven at night, why are you here so late?" I questioned, taking another step back only to swerve into the kitchen and occupy myself with browsing through the fridge.

"Well," Renee began, giddily.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I encountered some Gatorade. It didn't have the edge I would have liked, but then I didn't want to offer my 'guests' anything of value.

"We were going to wait until tomorrow. You weren't home when we first arrived, see. So, Phil and I checked into the hotel. Phil suggested that we should see if you were home—we found out your address from that old bar you used to work at—" "Laurent's," I provided. "Yes!" she said, clapping her hands together.

I grabbed the three bottles of red liquid and placed them on the counter, motioning with my hand for them to take one. If I hadn't have offered them anything, my mother would have asked anyway.

So, I got it over and done with before I would have to speak to Phil to ask what he wanted.

I didn't have the fucking stomach to do such a thing.

"Yes, Laurent's," my mother continued.

"He told us where he last remembered you lived, he had to send you your last pay-check or something."

I sighed and nodded—peeved that she had brought that place up again after I had successfully trumped all those memories into my subconscious. The same I did with..._other_...memories, unpleasant ones.

"So, we came here but then you weren't at home so we went back," I almost groaned at her play-by-play.

She always hedged subjects, never getting straight to the mother fucking point which I fucking hated. I closed my eyes tightly and rubbed my forehead before taking a swig of my drink and focussing back on her babbling form.

"Then Phil said that you were probably at work and that you should be home around now," she continued. I nodded along absently.

"Phil offered to come here by himself, just to check you were back while I was in the shower," she said.

My head snapped up and inexplicably found the target of the conversation. Phil was watching me, his face mostly blank. He could have come here by himself—then what would have happened? I tore my eyes from him and landed them back on Renee who had not stopped talking.

"So, he came by, and yet again, you weren't here." She said, exasperated at that little inconvenience.

"Then after that, we decided to try one more time and here you are!" she crowed cheerfully.

I wonder if she detected the disgust on my face. If I hadn't stopped and taken the time to talk to Edward before leaving, I could have been home on time for Phil's solo visit. I swallowed loudly and tried not to dwell on the 'what if's'. But it was impossible not to. What if I hadn't said 'I love you' to Edward? I would have been here earlier--with Phil. I couldn't bring myself to regret saying it, then. It was possibly the smartest thing I've done so far in life, that, and when I left Phoenix for Forks.

I quickly banished that train of thought before it could result in a flood of more memories, impossibly more unpleasant than the memories I kept locked away back in Phoenix. More unpleasant, because they were so good, and thinking about them, thinking about what I lost, was more painful. I wish I had Edward here—as a rock, something to hold onto while I faced these people. It sounded weak...but then...I had done things mostly on my own for my entire life. And as much as I hated admitting defeat, I knew that I was defeated right now—without him.

"That's, uh, quite a story...Mom." I managed to get out between clenched teeth.

I picked at the hem of my shirt, catching a frayed edge and staring at it studiously as I considered what to say next. Luckily, Renee's boisterous energetic nature overcame that obstacle for me when she began talking again. Ability to engage in conversation was a trait we did not share.

"Anyways, it's been busy back home. I wish you could visit more often..." she trailed off.

I cringed at the thought of that ever happening. She turned to me with mock-insult.

"If I didn't know any better, Isabella, I'd say you were trying to avoid your poor mother." She grinned—well, she wasn't far off. It wasn't her in particular I wanted to avoid.

I smiled weakly anyway.

"It's been too long since we've spoken and I've missed you so much," she went on, a slight tremble in her voice.

Phil walked over to her—which was a little too close to me, for my liking, so I moved away a tad—and softly caressed her shoulder in a show of comfort. I felt the severe urge to grab a carving knife—they were so close, just mere inches away, in the second draw on the left. But what would that do to me? I knew I was a fucking bitch, but as a person, it would give me even more problems than I already had. Taking someone's life, if that's what it was that he had, was still a little hard to comprehend—especially by my own hands. My hand fell limply to my side at their display of affection—Renee's: Genuine and love-filled. Phil's: Mocking, fake and cheesy.

I threw my empty bottle into the trash and decided that now was the best time to get them the fuck out of here.

"Well, it's nice to see you, Mom. But, I have to get to bed now..." I took a deep breath and faked looking exhausted so they would leave me the fuck alone.

"I'm just...exhausted." I smiled weakly before walking to the door and holding it open for them.

"Okay, honey. We'll be around tomorrow night, though. We're going out to dinner!" she cheered, clapping her hands together again.

A habit of hers it seemed.

Phil followed behind her, helping her into her coat before grabbing his in his hand. I waited at the door, my hand on my hip as I watched them come closer. Renee reached the door frame and leaned over to give me another fierce hug which I meekly returned. She smiled warmly, rubbing my arm before moving out. Phil came after her—he glanced at me from the corner of his eye, a sickening glint behind his blue irises that had me clutching the wood for support.

"It was lovely seeing you again, Bella. Honey." He said, adding on the extra pet name as if to torment me.

I wouldn't sleep well tonight—and I think he knew that.

The minute they were out of the door, I picked up the phone.

EPOV

I was in desperate need to see Bella again. I hadn't realised what my hesitation had looked like to her. She had pretty much admitted it—that she loved me and I had stood there, silent like a dumb fuck. I grumbled to myself, brooding in my bar stool as Esme handed out free drinks. The night was incredibly slow—hardly anyone. It was just Rose walking the stage tonight. Esme had even sent Jess and Tanya home already. I wished—even though I knew she was tired—that she had made Bella stay back tonight. At least then, she'd be with me—if only inconspicuously.

I smiled into my glass as I thought about what we did on this very bar.

I licked my lips, setting my glass back down on the glossy wood where she had laid on her back—giving herself to me. That was the moment I knew it—that she was more than just to fill the desire. She wasn't the journey, she was the destination. I didn't need her to get where I wanted, or who I wanted. Because, it was her. _She_ was where I wanted to be.

I sighed wistfully like a love-sick little fucking teen.

Felix, beside me, nudged my elbow with his, an inquisitive look in his doe eyes. I quirked an eyebrow, lazily.

"What's up with you--" Hiccup. "—Newbie?" he asked.

I smirked at the nickname Bella had created. Looks like it spread. I shook my head in mock-indignation. Felix chuckled.

"Nothing," I answered with a sigh.

He snorted in response.

"Sure," he shrugged, being sarcastic. "I'm sure it's absolutely nothing that has you awake at night. Nothing that's taken the stick out of your ass that's been there since you started here. And," he lowered his voice to a whisper so only I could hear his words.

"I'm sure it's nothing that's got you panting after someone you work with." He winked.

My mouth fell open. Did he know...? Did Bella tell him?

"How did you..." I started, disbelieving and a little shocked. Nobody else knew about us—however, apparently, Rose and Jess were very close to working it out.

Felix laughed throatily and deep. He shook his head before sculling the last drop of his drink. He stood up from his stool then, smacking a few dollar bills on the counter for Esme before he stopped next to me and leant down to whisper.

"I can see it in your eyes." He said, conspiratorially.

I frowned and he just chuckled, knowingly as he walked off. I closed my mouth and glanced back at Esme and Demetri who didn't seem perturbed by Felix's unusual behaviour. I leaned back on the bar with my elbows, playing with my glass, swirling the amber liquid around in the bottom. I watched my reflection ripple in the whiskey. My phone vibrated, bringing me out of my pre-occupation with my drink. I sighed, reaching into my pocket. The caller I.D said Esme—it was her home number, which could only mean it was Bella. I frowned and stood up from my seat, fleeing to somewhere private.

"Hey, what's up?" I answered, turning off the darkened corridor into the men's room.

"Uh, hey," she responded.

Alarms immediately went off in my brain at the tone of voice she used.

"What's wrong?" I demanded lowly.

She breathed deeply into the receiver, making it her voice crackle through the phone.

"I just...I...need to...be with you right now." She confessed.

I sighed out in relief.

"Jesus, Bella, you scared me. I thought you were in trouble or something," I breathed, feeling my heart through my chest.

"Sorry," she mumbled almost unintelligibly.

I bit my lip, scratching the back of my head with my other hand.

"I think I can get Esme to let me go for the night—it's dead around here." I told her, staring at the door.

"Oh, yeah?" she said timidly.

I breathed out slowly.

"I really want to see you." I murmured forlornly.

Who was I kidding anymore? I was as whipped as the next fucker. And, I couldn't have cared less. I was already desperate for her touch again—I had been with her around an hour or two ago, and already it felt like she had been gone for days.

I could hear the smile in her voice when she responded then.

"When?" she asked. "Just come over to my place, okay? I don't..." she sighed. "I don't to fucking be alone."

I nodded, knowing she couldn't see me.

"I'll be over as soon as I can." I told her.

The phone went dead—something about her tone, her vulnerability just set off something inside my head. I stalked back out to the bar where Esme was chatting mutely with one of three customers that were here tonight. I gave her a quick excuse, that a friend of mine needed me to jump their car. She nodded and shrugged, not really caring for the moment. I nodded and practically ran to my car.

~~~___~~~

"Bella?" I called through her front door, knocking on the wood as I waited impatiently for her to let me in.

I knocked again, harder and more hastily. I listened, nothing but silence on the other side of that door. Fear trickled down to the pit of my stomach. Fuck being inconspicuous. I turned the knob, ready to bust down that mother fucker—but it opened fine. I swore under my breath. Hadn't I told her to lock her doors at night?

"Fuck, Bella," I hissed, closing the door and locking it behind me.

I was met with a dark, empty apartment. You could hear a pin drop. I made my way to her bedroom—she was lying there on her back, her legs and arms spread out across the comforter. I choked on my own fear—staggering forward and grasping her limp body with trembling hands.

"Bella! Bella!" I shook her.

Her eyelids fluttered open and she stared up at me with a frown on her face.

"Do you know you almost gave me a mother fucking heart attack?" I yelled.

She shrank back against the mattress, staring at me like I was deranged. Perhaps I was. But with good reason.

"Shit. Sorry." She muttered, rigidly.

I sighed, sitting down next to her.

"I thought you had been..." I trailed off, shaking my head.

"Do you know you left your door unlocked?" I asked, holding my hand out to the living room.

Her eyes widened and she sat up, tucking her hair behind her ear. She swallowed loudly. I felt bad, I had just been an intrusive ass. Maybe I overreacted too much. With an apologetic sigh, I pulled her to me, circling her shoulders with my arms.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?" I asked, already knowing her answer.

"No." She said simply.

I nodded against her hair, laying a kiss there. She moved her face up to meet mine, pressing her lips to me. I gladly took them. She sighed contently, grazing her finger tips up my shoulders and pulling my jacket from my shoulders. I let her pull it off and throw it to the carpeted floor. I kicked my shoes off as she pushed me backwards with a shove to my chest.

"Fuck, you're so sexy when you do that," I hissed.

She grinned smugly, the sound of my jeans unzipping echoed through the silent space. My breathing hitched. I arched my back, letting Bella remove my pants as I pulled my shirt off. Bella straddled my hips and began slowly unbuttoning her blouse. I watched, licking my lips and groaning. She looked too fucking good. She slipped the fabric off her shoulders, dropping it off the edge of the bed and shaking her hair out. She leaned down, placing a hand on the bed, either side of my head. I reached my hands behind her, tracing the column of her spine. She gasped, and shuddered at my touch. I fucking loved it. The glowing moonlight bathed her body in an iridescent, scarlet glow. I stared at her beautiful body in awe—amazed that she, so easily, shared it with me.

She moved her lips to my ear, grazing her teeth against the lobe. I hissed, my hands hooking under the strap of her bra and unclasping it. I threw it off the bed, revealing her supple breasts—the flesh puckered. I moaned, cupping them in my hands. They fit perfectly in my palms. She breathed heavily against my skin, covering my hands with hers, pressing them harder against her chest. Fuck. I pushed her off my lap and onto her back. She laughed—beautifully melodic, an attribute of a woman I had hardly taken into account in the past. I let my hands trail heat down her torso, hovering over her hips before pulling her jeans down to reveal some fucking hot lace panties. I groaned, biting my lip as she gazed up at me with hooded eyes. She propped herself up on her elbows as I leaned down, trailing a line of kisses down her stomach. I felt her hands twine through my hair, coaxing me further. Fuck, I fucking wanted to go further. She hummed underneath me, her skin was soft, fragrant—it smelt like _Bella._

My previous irritation and concern had dissipated—consumed by the almighty desire growing between our bodies. My cock was fucking aching to be inside her—it was almost whimpering. I nipped the skin just below her naval, tasting her. I tugged on the waist band of the red lace with my teeth, pulling on them. She lifted her ass off the bed so I could tug them all the way down her thighs. I let them fall from her ankles as her hold on my hair tightened in anticipation. I smiled up at her before nudging her swollen clit with my tongue. She flinched and moaned at the slight contact. I licked my lips, savouring the taste of her. I slid my tongue between her slippery folds.

"Oh, fuck, Edward!" she wailed. Her hips moved off the bed, closer to my face. I circled her entrance with my tongue, lapping her moisture like it was the substance of life. I caressed her hips tightly, my fingers digging in.

"You taste so fucking amazing," I moaned into her.

She gasped.

"Fuck, you're so good at this!" she breathed in a high-pitched voice.

I chuckled then flicked my tongue out again to touch her clit. She groaned as I slipped two fingers inside her heated core. She whimpered, thrusting her hips towards me. I growled, unable to hold back—my cock twitched, ready to fucking combust if I didn't fuck her right then.

"Do you want me inside you?" I growled at her, crawling up her body until my tip nudged her entrance.

She groaned in response.

"Fucking hell!"

I ran my tongue between her peaks and up her neck. I licked her bottom lip before taking it between mine.

"You're so wet, so fucking hot, Bella." I whispered into her mouth.

Her tongue met mine in a frenzy of hunger and lust. Her hand slid between our bodies, grasping my cock. I growled into her neck, biting the flesh there. She whimpered but squeezed her fist.

"Fuck, Bella."

I propped her legs up so they rested on my shoulders. I leaned down, pushing my dick inside her. We both groaned in unison.

She was so tight around me, it was almost impossible not to cum before I even started thrusting. I had to get a grip first before I could start pumping her hot pussy. I moved in and out of her with ease, her soaking core was better than lube.

"Edward, Edward!" she said in breathless pants.

"God, I'm gonna fucking cum," I snarled, bracing myself.

"Cum, Bella. Cum with me. I want you to cum for me again." I ordered.

She writhed in pleasure beneath me, so close to fucking coming apart.

"I'm so close, Edward...just a little more...I'm so close!" she cried desperately.

"Don't hold back, baby." I told her. "Fucking cum!"

Just as the words slipped out of my mouth, her walls clenched around my cock. I swore furiously at the sensation. She convulsed in a fit of ecstasy, crying my name out between clenched teeth. I panted, my teeth gritting as I came inside her. I groaned, letting her legs slide off my shoulders and slowly lowering myself on top of her. I rolled onto my back with her against my chest, panting and sweating.

"Jesus," I muttered, running my hand through my hair.

Bella shook with laughter against me. I smirked.

"Bella?" Esme called from the living room.

My eyes bulged out of my head. Bella shot up out of bed, naked and standing in the middle of her bedroom. She bit her lip frantically before realising I was still here. I sat up quickly and retreated to the bathroom, kicking my clothes along with me.

"Uh, in here." Bella said nervously.

I bit down on my fist to keep from laughing.

"I was just, going to take a shower..." she said, only just coming up with that excuse.

"Oh, okay, well, goodnight." Esme said, a smile clear in her voice.

I heard Bella's bedroom door close with a gentle thud. I rocked on the balls of my feet, waiting for her to enter. I eyed the floor length mirror I stood in front of. The door opened and the light flickered on. Bella smiled at me before walking over, letting her robe drop—she must have found one for Esme's sake.

I smiled, calculating, before I grasped her shoulders and turned her around to face us in the mirror. I walked her forward so she could reach it with her hands. I rested my chin on her shoulder as I stared at her, my arms wrapped around her petite waist. The image was so fucking sexy, so irreplaceable. I grew harder then, inhaling deeply, running my nose along her jaw. Her arm bent around her so her hand could grab a fistful of my hair. I growled into her neck, nipping her again then licking and sucking her sweet skin.

A familiar flush spread over her body, colouring it. My hand came around her waist to cup her breast. I played with her nipples, teasing them as her breaths became shallow pants. She grabbed my hand and leaned her other against the mirror. She guided our hands down her stomach, finding her folds, slick with moisture once again. She bit her lip and stared at me then, something dark and wanton in her eyes. I pressed my hardened cock against her ass. She gasped quietly. I leaned her other hand against the mirror, pulling her ass back a bit further and grasping her hips tightly in my hands. I watched us the entire time as I thrust into her hot centre again with total abandon.

Her head was bobbing up and down with each thrust, her hair swaying and her tits bouncing. I was fucking mesmerised by such a beautiful creature. I snaked my hand around her front again, sliding down to her sensitive mound and rubbing it as I came close to losing it. I wanted her to fall apart first. She began to shudder and tighten, her eyes boring into mine as she completely lost it. She bit down hard on her lip, gasping and whimpering slightly as she seized around me. I buried my face between her shoulder blades, kissing and licking before I blew my load inside her again. I shuddered, exploding my hot cum inside her walls. I pulled out of her, wrapping my arms back around her limp body. She couldn't move and she was weak and struggling to walk. I cleaned up and had her back in her room. I sighed as I stared down at her. She was dressed in some shorts and a band t-shirt. _Guns n Roses_. I smirked and leaned down to kiss her on the nose. She smiled sleepily. I had my head propped up on my hand, leaning on my elbow.

I was laying next to her on my side, watching her doze off.

"God, I fucking love you."


	15. Nothing

**Okay, so i'm pimping out The Countdown to Christmas...again. Make sure you check it out, starts on the 1st of December. My One-shot will be called..."A smutty Christmas" I think. So, yeah, unless Breathoftwilight thinks its gay and immoral and decides to delete it (I totally wouldn't blame her) Haha. Anywho, uh, this chapter--gets a little..I don't know, I think you might hate me. Haha in a good way, though.**

**Um, their dinner date--doesnt go so well...and, lets just say, it's going to be one heck of a night.**

**Actually--I have plans, more stuff is going to happen on the same night when this chapter ends--should I keep it going or should I spread it out?**

**I'm not sure, so I thought I'd ask my disciples ;)**

**LOL. And, wow! I updated AGAIN! Yeah, I know, I'm awesome *looks at nails***

**Should I do another update of IA: SI after this? (sordid infatuations) Or Ancient and Divine, or will you be begging me to keep going with the next chapter for this story?**

**Well, you decide and let me know. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW MY PRETTIES! *strokes snow globe***

* * *

_A tear in my brain  
Allows the voices in  
They wanna push you off the path  
With their frequency wires_

And you can do no wrong  
In my eyes  
In my eyes  
You can do no wrong  
In my eyes  
In my eyes

A drunken salesman  
Your hearing damage  
Your mind is restless  
They say you're getting better  
But you don't feel any better

Your speakers are blowing  
Your ears are wrecking  
Your hearing damage  
You wish you felt better  
You wish you felt better

You can do no wrong  
In my eyes  
In my eyes  
You can do no wrong  
In my eyes  
In my eyes  
In my

In my eyes  
In my eyes  
In my eyes  


_Hearing Damage-Thom Yorke_

* * *

After that lengthy fuck-session in the bathroom, I was fucking dead. I was so exhausted and spent, Edward had stayed there with me, keeping me comforted. I was half-asleep, listening to him whisper things to me. I was ready to completely doze off when he mumbled something into the silence between us. My ears pricked up and my eyes flew open after the words left his mouth.

"God I fucking love you." He breathed.

I sat straight up in bed.

"What?" I demanded, flustered.

Edward's eyes were wide and embarrassed.

"Huh? Nothing." He said, looking away.

"What did you just say?" I challenged, sick of the way he avoided it.

I sat up all the way, leaning against the metal bed frame and crossing my arms over my chest as I stared at him. He sighed and scooted closer.

"Bella," he began—a small, insecure part of me was scared to fucking death that he was going to have the 'break up' talk with me.

I tried not to look too afraid.

"I'm _sick_ of this back and forth, between us," he motioned between us with his hand.

I frowned and waited for him to speak in English terms, maybe something I could fucking understand.

"This has been going on for a month and a half. I _know_ how I feel, and I'm not about to go back to hating you. I don't want to pretend anymore—I can't fucking do it." He explained.

Deep seeded dread settled itself in my stomach before I spoke, my voice icy.

"So, you're dumping me." I nodded, my voice thick and my throat aching.

I felt like vomiting. I pulled my knees to my chest and rubbed my hands over my face before glancing between my fingers at him. His face looked shocked, incredulous—somewhat amused. That insensitive mother fucker!

"Wait...what?" he asked, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

He shook his head.

"I'm not fucking breaking up with you. I didn't even know you classified us as a couple, but I assure you, that is the last fucking thing I want to do. Believe me." He said, his voice hard.

He moved closer, removing my knees from my chest, pushing my legs back down and taking my face in his hands.

"But, if we're going to do this," he said slowly.

"I need to know everything. And you need to know everything." He whispered reverently.

"I fucking love you too." I murmured.

He stared at me, his face unmoving before a spark of understanding registered behind his eyes.

He pulled my face fiercely to his. I kissed him back with as much feeling in my body, everything I could muster up inside me. There was a part of my brain that was freaking out—asking me what the fuck I was going to do now that he wanted to know everything. Would there be enough time in the world to get it all out? Would he still want me the same way as before? These mother fucking insecurities were eating away at my heart like a fucking disease. I breathed heavily as he leaned our foreheads together, my eyes still closed.

"Can we do it slowly?" I asked.

I licked my lips.

"I mean, with telling you everything. Can we start with small things?" I bargained.

"Okay, sure." He whispered, fanning his fuck-delicious breath across my face.

I was growing hot for him again—impossibly so, nobody had ever made me this horny in my entire life—but I didn't know if I had any energy conserved to be able to move anymore.

"I'll go first." He whispered, leaning back.

I nodded and snuggled under the comforter. Edward followed suit after hopping off the bed and pulling his shirt off. He got in beside me, tucking his arm around my waist before resting the side of his face against my neck.

"Okay," he sighed.

He opened his mouth then closed it. It looked like he was about to say something but changed his mind and said something else.

"The military. It wasn't a good place for me." He began.

I covered his hand on my waist with my own, squeezing it in encouragement.

"I've killed people before, Bella." He confessed.

I took a deep breath in, and let it out. I had assumed as much, somehow, I could feel it in his presence. It wasn't like he was proud of it—maybe only of serving his country—but not of the method.

I gulped, because it was my fucking turn to do this sharing shit.

"Okay, well...something small." I muttered.

"You're coming to dinner with me tomorrow night." I told him.

His chuckled vibrated through my spine. He pressed his lips at the hollow beneath my ear. I shuddered in response.

"That's not a secret. You just asked me out on a date." He said.

I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Well, it's not exactly with just me..." I said, contemplating what the night would entail.

Edward wanted to know fucking everything about me, every dark and dirty hole of my past. Could I bring myself to discuss all those things? So freely? Trusting him with it all, hoping that it wouldn't change us. My greatest fear—him feeling that I was used, a tramp, inhuman. A piece of dirt. But that is what he was going to share with me—because apparently, he loved me. And, I'd be lying if I wasn't fucking curious as to what happened in his life before we met.

It almost made me fucking angry that he would have had past girlfriends and fuck-buddies. Although, that was severely fucking hypocritical of me—seeing as how Jasper was exactly that.

I sighed again in resignation before telling him the most important part of our arrangement tomorrow night.

"My mother and her husband are in town."

~~~___~~~

Okay, so I lied. I didn't tell him the most important part, just the imperative information for the immediate future.

I was so fucking full of fear at the thought of losing Edward after telling him all of it. Moving past the cynical little bitter bitch I used to be was an amazing feats—Edward was the one to bring me out of my funk. If that source of energy and love was taken away—what would there be left of me?

I would become just what Phil always told me I would.

Nothing.

I considered skipping town for a few days, just until my mother and her fuck-wad husband left. But, that would only hurt Edward. I couldn't tell him about Phil, I just couldn't. And if I left with no explanation, he would assume it was because of him.

I hadn't elaborated much on my mother, Edward only knew that I hated my step-father. I shuddered. He didn't even deserve that title. It was too close to the name, 'father'. My _father_ was a brilliant human being—Phil is and never will be a mere fraction of what Charlie was—and still is, to me.

I breathed in deeply—the smell of leather, dark/musky cologne and sex greeted my senses. I lavished in the scent of Edward—smiling with my eyes still tightly closed.

Edward stirred behind me, his breath rustling my hair, raising goose bumps on the nape of my neck.

I groaned lightly and felt his arm tighten reflexively around my torso. He moved his hand then, letting it trail up my stomach to my hip bone, grazing up my side, over my ribs then back to my hip. He paused there, his lips pressing against my neck as they moved down my thigh.

I hummed in content, turning my face to meet his. With his single arm, he pulled my entire body to his, turning me on my side so I could face him completely. He propped his head up on his hand, staring down at me. I rubbed my eyes sleepily and yawned.

He smiled crookedly, kissing my forehead, then the tip of my nose before pressing them fully against my lips.

I bit my lip as he pulled back.

"So, you stayed the entire night?" I asked, grinning.

He nodded, his eyes still heavy.

"I thought, what was the point in leaving. Esme is bound to find out sometime. May as well do it now." He mumbled, his voice still velvety and liquid sex event after sleeping for nine hours.

I heard plates clattering in the kitchen—Esme preparing a banquet breakfast or something. I hoped there would be waffles.

I sighed, leaning my face against his chest. His hand brushed over my cheek, smoothing my hair down my back before trailing down to my hip again. He circled it with his finger tip, lifting the fabric to touch my skin. He started tugging the waist band down, my breath hitched. I smiled excitedly with my eyes still closed, shimmying out of my shorts until I could feel them hanging off my feet. I kicked them the rest of the way off, Edward's hands began their torturous ministrations on my thigh.

I bit my lip and breathed heavily as he slowly tickled the flesh just below my crotch.

He was being so gentle, savouring.

I let my hands wander down his stomach, his muscles clenching unconsciously as I came into contact with them. I gently began unbuttoning his jeans—which he wore to bed, how uncomfortable—then unzipping them.

He manoeuvred out of them too and I practically tore his boxers off after that. Once his throbbing cock was fully revealed to me I began to pant. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing myself not to start moaning like a cow getting milked.

My fingers splayed out across his stomach before they slowly swept down his naval to his dick. I bit my lip and looked up at him through my lashes, grasping his cock simultaneously, earning a hiss from his clenched teeth. He took that as an act of war, gripping my thigh and lifting it so I had my foot flat on the bed and my knee bent. He could gain better access this way.

His fingers gently parted my lips, sliding up and down, over my clit, down to my entrance. He circled it with his index finger before slipping two inside. I bucked my hips into his hand, grasping his cock tighter before pumping my hand up and down it. He twitched, burying his face in my hair as he picked up the speed of his skilful fingers.

I groaned into the pillow, fastening my speed on his dick—I wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer. He growled into my hair, trying to keep it as mute as possible. I was breathing hard, my body shuddering with each ripple of pleasure his hands emitted. His sinfully luscious cock grew harder, traces of pre-cum on his tip. I groaned as I saw it. He slid his fingers inside me further, curling them and causing me to moan, thrusting my hips closer once more.

"Fuck," I whispered.

He grunted in response. I groaned, moving down the bed, away from his hands. I got up on my knees, bowing my head over his cock.

"Bella," he breathed in weak protest.

I took him in my mouth, flicking my tongue out as I reach the tip, licking all the way down the under-side of his dick. He filled me so completely. I was almost unable to breathe, he was practically hitting the pit of my stomach with each time I slid my mouth down his length. He swore in hisses, his muscles tensing everywhere, his hands were in fists at his sides.

I grasped his thighs, bobbing my head up and down slowly, running my tongue over every inch before curling it around the tip. I took him in my mouth once more before he came, his hot cum hit the back of my throat. I licked every last drop—straightening up to meet his eyes. They were dark and hooded, a fierce look of animalistic desire burning in them. I bit my lip, breathing harder, my heart pumping a million miles an hour. I expected this is what it fucking felt like to run a marathon.

"Fuuckk!" I hissed as Edward grabbed me and threw me down on my back.

He spread my legs wide, wasting no time in plunging his fingers back inside of my hot wetness. I grasped my pillow, smothering my groans with it over my face.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any fucking better—it fucking does. Edward flicked his tongue out to touch my clit, his stubble creating a tickling sensation against my inner thighs and scraping deliciously against my wet core.

"God, I fucking love you!" I growl-whispered.

My back arched off the bed, my hips bucking into Edward's face as I rode out my orgasm. He didn't relent, he kept going.

"Oh, fuck, Edward!" I was breathless now.

The pleasure, it was too much to bear. His fingers continued their stroking, his tongue continued cleaning up all of my moisture.

I practically had to beg for mercy from the fucker. My body convulsed once more, my hands gripping his bronze hair as my muscles tensed around his fingers. I let out a shuddering breath—unable to take anymore of this.

"Enough," I whimpered.

Edward finally surrendered, pulling his face back from between my legs—that image alone should be enough to make me cum again. He smirked up at me, wiping his chin and mouth with the back of his hand. I bit my lip, my chest heaving as he crawled over me, kissing me on the lips.

I sucked his bottom lip between mine, tasting myself there.

"You're a real fucker," I chastised him as he reclaimed his face from me.

He grinned crookedly. I smiled, shaking my head then sighed.

"Are we ready to come out yet, kids?" Esme's voice sounded from behind my bedroom door.

My eyes shot back to Edward hovering on top of me—his eyes wide, a hint of amusement clear in them.

I cleared my throat.

"Um, what the fuck are you on this morning, Esme?" I questioned sarcastically.

Although I didn't see much point in trying to pretend anymore. The fucking woman knew anyway. Her chuckle echoed through the entire fucking apartment.

I raised an eyebrow at Edward who just shrugged. I took a deep, steeling breath before moving from underneath him to find my shorts again. I pulled them on and threw Edward his jeans. He caught them, stepping off the bed to pull them on, too. I stubbed my toe on the foot of the bed as I was walking to open the door.

"Argh! Mother fucker!" I screamed—pain shooting up my foot.

"Jesus fucking Christ! I fucking hate you, you mother fucker!" I yelled again.

I finally calmed down—just as Esme threw the door open.

"What in God's fucking name, is going on in here?" she demanded, her hands on her hips.

She had never felt like more of a mother ever before than she did right now. I smiled sheepishly, still grimacing from hurting my toe. I hopped on one foot as Esme took in my stance, realising it was my own clumsiness that I was yelling about. Her eyes shot up then, straight to where Edward stood in the corner of the room—his lips clamped together to keep from smiling. I glared. That fucker.

Esme's adopted the same expression as she glanced between us. I frowned, surprised that she was taking all of this so well. She cleared her throat then and attempted a serious face. Attempted, being the operative word.

"Um, may I ask what is going on?" she queried curiously now, raising her eyebrows at me then glancing back to Edward—the fucker now had his hand over his mouth.

I sighed and decided just to be out with it.

"We're fucking..." I glanced at Edward who glanced at me. "Together." I finished.

"We're together." I repeated, for some reason, it sounded so fucking good to my ears.

Esme was staring at me like I had just told her I was fucking Luke Skywalker—ridiculous right? It wasn't that big of a deal!

"But...you two...hate each other?" she said it like a question, waiting for our confirmation.

I shrugged, sort of nodding and sort of shaking my head.

"It's...um, complicated...Esme." I answered finally.

She crossed her arms across her chest, her gaze flickering back to Edward who had finally fucking controlled himself.

"I'm sorry...that we didn't tell you earlier," he started to explain.

Esme cut him off with a motion with her finger.

"Don't worry, honey." She heaved a sigh.

"I should have expected this anyway—you two were never good at being enemies anyway."

She rubbed her temples and started pacing at the foot of my bed.

"So...how long has this been going on?" she asked.

"Around a month...and a half." I told her.

She nodded 'okay'.

She then pointed to Edward, her eyes intent on him.

"You." She said simply, but both of us could detect the warning in her tone.

"You don't ever hurt her...or you will have to deal with the fucking consequences, because I sure as hell would _not_ want to be you if that ever happened." She said.

I snorted—so fucking true.

Edward nodded in understanding, I felt like throwing a shoe at his head. Esme scrunched her face up again, shaking her head and taking a deep breath before meeting my eyes again.

"Your mother called—I have no idea how she got our number. But, she just wanted me to tell you that you are meeting them at seven, at that Italian place—_La Bella Italia_." She informed me.

My face fell and I nodded once.

"Okay, I think that's it." She said, strolling past me.

She held the door open a second longer before adding something.

"Oh, and, when you're going for inconspicuousness, try getting sound-proof walls next time. Or at least stop with the grunting—seriously, it was like a fucking petting zoo." She smiled devilishly before disappearing.

I gulped at the closed door before turning back to face Edward in all his glory.

The morning sun streamed through my windows, illuminating his sculpted chest. He pulled me out of my abstraction when he strode toward me. He hugged me close, kissed my hair and let me go.

"This should be fun," he encouraged lightly.

I nodded and smiled tightly before escaping to the kitchen for breakfast.

~~~___~~~

"You turn left up here," I ordered Edward. He was driving my SUV. I had thought it would be a better idea than his bike, seeing as he didn't have two helmets.

But, then again, a quick getaway would have been comforting—the possibility of crashing it and cracking my head on the blacktop wasn't such an awful thing to think about. Amnesia—how it would solve everything. At least I wouldn't mourn the loss of Edward—not having known I had him in the first place. How could you feel grief over losing something you never knew you had? You couldn't. Amnesia just kept sounding better.

Edward nodded mutely, straightening his tie. When he showed up on my doorstep like _that_—I fucking soaked my panties within seconds.

He was wearing a white dress shirt, crisp and clean with a black tie. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, he had his black leather jacket slung over one shoulder. He had on black slacks and a belt with a novelty buckle. A set of brass knuckles. It just brought the attention to his crotch, which wouldn't help at all with my concentration. The fucker sure knew how to drive me crazy.

I was used to small-cocked, sleazy office workers. Edward made a name for the mother fuckers. There were polished turds—he was a mother fucking God. And, obviously, he was very well endowed. And, another aspect that set him apart—I _wanted_ him to be sleazy with me. I fucking lived for that shit.

I tried calming my nerves with thoughts of Edward and what I would do to him when we got home after this night was over. It helped, partially. But the only thing that would really help, was if we could turn around right now and do exactly that. But...I knew that if we did that, Phil and Renee would only keep coming back—they knew where I lived now.

It was better I do it this way—out in a public place, I sort of felt better than them intruding in my home. I didn't want memories of them to collide with memories of where I lived.

It would only make me try to forget them all. Then, I would want to move, too.

Anything that they had touched made me physically unable to be near.

I would never go back to Phoenix. Never.

I sighed and looked down at the dress Esme let me borrow. It was deep blue, satin and slippery. It was a spaghetti strap dress, beautiful really, not much unlike the costumes I wore at work. Edward had certainly liked it.

I threw a cardigan over the top and some ballet flats—I was always wearing heels at work. We pulled into the parking lot, Edward turned the engine off, leaving the car in silence.

I stared out the window to the glowing restaurant before making the decision not to be a coward.

"Okay, let's go." I said to Edward, grabbing my clutch purse before opening my door.

Edward darted from his side to catch my door and me. He helped me down so I wouldn't rip the shit out of Esme's dress. I smiled and kissed him on the lips before tightly grasping his hand and walking by his side into the heat of _La Bella Italia._

It was furnished beautifully, dark, blood-red table cloths, cream painted walls...candles...

My eyes fell on their table. Renee perked up, noticing our entrance and waving frantically. I waved back and smiled slightly before we came to a stop at the maitre de stand.

"Uh, we're here with the...Dwyer's," I spat the name out.

The girl behind the podium smiled warmly and directed us through the tables to where we were going to sit. It was a private booth, Renee on one side and Phil on the other. I groaned internally.

Edward squeezed my hand before making a move to sit on Phil's side. I let out a relieved breath before Renee piped in.

"Oh, no sweet heart! We haven't had the pleasure yet. Come sit next to me!" she ordered cheerfully.

"Okay," Edward smiled gentlemanly.

I gritted my teeth and cringed slightly as I sat down on the seat next to Phil. My stomach was in knots and I couldn't even bear to look at him.

"It's so nice to meet you, I'm Renee." My mom smiled, shaking Edward's hand.

"I'm Edward. Bella's boyfriend." He introduced himself.

I couldn't help but smile at that—it had been years since anyone called themselves that.

It cheered me up a little.

Renee's smile grew even bigger at the mention of a boyfriend. She eyed me with a conspiratorial grin. I rolled my eyes and laughed tightly.

"Edward, huh?" Phil spoke gruffly.

I stiffened in my seat but didn't react too much.

"How you doin' Edward?" he said warmly, stretching his hand across the table to shake Edward's.

I cringed again—he was touching him. I wanted to barf.

I breathed through my mouth, afraid that I might catch the scent of his cologne and never be able to make the smell go away. It would stick to my skin, my clothes.

Edward smiled in return, oblivious as I hadn't told him anything about Phil. Nor did I have plans to. After our little greeting was over, Phil began to chat animatedly with Edward about baseball. I slumped in my seat slightly, over the bullshit display he put on.

I ground my teeth together and waited for it to be over.

The waiter approached our table then with a pen and notepad. I perked up immediately, being the first to order something. Edward grabbed my hand on top of the table and gave it an encouraging squeeze. He smiled at me before ordering for himself.

As Renee was about to order, she was cut off by the fuck-wad himself. He ordered for her. I frowned at Mom and she just shrugged it off and laughed, rolling her eyes. I had to control myself from slamming her head into the table. It was obvious that something was off. Did she not see the evil that exuded from him? The scum, the foulness, the malevolence? Maybe she did—but she chose _not_ to see it. Dealing with it would be harder than being ignorant, or turning a blind eye. I wondered if she did it because she thought she'd be alone otherwise.

I wanted to tell her she wouldn't be—but I couldn't get the words from my head and out of my mouth. Because I wasn't sure if I could keep that promise. I don't know how easy I could forgive her. I knew...deep down in her soul, in her heart, she fucking knew everything. That part alone, was the reason I couldn't forgive her.

I reached out for my drink, downing it in a few gulps and setting it back on the table, anxious for a refill. Edward's brow furrowed, he nudged my foot under the table. I looked up at him and smiled weakly before dropping my eyes back to the red wax candles in the centre of the cloth. He continued his animated chat with _Phil_. Renee joined in occasionally, I think only Edward noticed how antisocial I was being.

Twenty minutes after we finished eating, their conversation had shifted from baseball onto sports, onto children, then onto parenting. We were filing out of the front door, Edward held it open for us as we stepped out into the cold night.

I shook my head at myself—I couldn't just stand here and listen to Phil describe his impeccable skills as a guardian. I just couldn't fucking do it without thumping his face into the brick wall.

Which is exactly what I should do.

Instead of acting out revenge—sweet revenge.

"Excuse me," I muttered. "I have to go to the bathroom." I stalked off back into the restaurant.

Edward followed, his footsteps close behind me. I turned down the secluded corridor, not stopping to turn around to see his reaction. I pushed the door open and stomped into the middle of the tiled room before taking a deep breath. I gnashed my teeth together, raking my nails down my face in utter frustration. The fluorescent light flickered over-head, it needed to be replaced. The mirror to my right was grimy and speckled with water from previous patrons. I slowly turned around—my eyes encountering _him._ His hands shot out, pushing me harshly up against the bathroom wall. The air whooshed out of my lungs before his hand clapped over my mouth—smothering my impending shriek.

.com/rare_bird_

BELT BUCKLE

.com/latin_ballroom_dancing_shoes_tango_swing_salsa/images/uploads/teal_satin_

Bella's dress.


	16. Fatal shot

**This chapter is completely in Edward's POV. Oh, shit, I just realised I needed to do my next collab chunk. Huh, I spose I should get to that next, ay? Yes, birobird.**

**Okay, well now that's cleared up.**

**This chapter--some major shit goes down. It's not as long as previous chapters, but I felt I just had to end this one where I did. You know, keep the suspense going. Need to keep it exciting right? Of course.**

**Anyway, I want to aim for a healthy 40 reviews for this chapter. Is that alot to ask? Probably. Should birobird go dose up on her meds? Indisputably. But, you know, I'm a human being--I have needs! Just like you have needs! For smut! I need reviews! Because they make me warm inside...like rum. Yeah...**

**That's what I should make! Rum balls! You know those balls made from crushed up biscuits and cocoa and coconut...and rum. Yeah, I love them. Umm, as I was saying, this chapter took a lot of work, somehow. Mmm. Well, I will be doing my collab chunk and then I'll be updating IA next, I think. Hope you enjoy this chapter ;)**

* * *

EPOV

I lead Bella inside the restaurant. I wondered if she knew how tightly she was holding my hand. Like a fucking vice—what was she worried about? That was the aspect about this whole thing that had me fucking around for an explanation. She looked totally fucking freaked out just about a little dinner date.

Don't get me wrong, I was ecstatic that we were out in the public together, no more sneaking around—although that part was fun—but Bella didn't seem too thrilled.

I was about to take her up on it when the maitre d spoke to us. I sighed, asking for the Dwyer table—Bella's parent's surname. I glanced at her surreptitiously as we made our way over to where Renee and her husband sat. What was his name again? I noticed every intake of breath she took, every measured step...I realised the infinitesimal tensing in her muscles as we approached her family.

What was up with her tonight? Anyone would think we were sending her into battle—but as I thought about it, maybe it was just the mere presence of a social setting. She also hadn't been in contact with her mother very much—I knew that.

But I also couldn't nab the feeling there was something she was holding back. I didn't know whether or not to be worried, or even angry. However, that would make me this year's most hypocritical douche—haven't I been keeping something of dire importance from said woman who was keeping something from me?

I was. But, I damn sure had my reasons. Bella didn't have to be unnecessarily worried. I was going to take care of her whether she liked it or not.

If I was to protect her from the outside world, or even from herself—I was going to fucking do it. And if she objected and spouted evidence to the contrary or that she didn't need my protection, then I'd just tell her it was too fucking bad.

I was in this permanently. I just wondered if she knew that already.

And if she was too.

I had to admit, she looked fucking sexy tonight. Her beautiful satin dress just hugged her curves in the exact right places, the hem finishing just above her knee. The spaghetti straps just gave me a reason to touch her, every time they fell from her shoulder, I'd push them back up, trying not to make it seem obvious that I was savouring it.

I almost had to drag Bella to her seat, like she was digging her heels into the floor like a child who didn't want to go to school—some horrible event.

Maybe she had had a fight with Renee—she also said that she didn't like Phil.

But as he introduced himself to me, he seemed like a down-to-earth kind of guy. Someone really nice. I chalked Bella's hostility towards him as just some pre-conceived notion that nobody would be better than her father or take his place in her world. She was young when he came into her life, and the notion probably stuck with her until adulthood. Not that I blamed her—it would have been difficult, especially for a child, when their parent's divorce then move across the country from each other.

I had to remind myself that Bella was still at the table with us the entire time. She hardly spoke a word to anyone. Renee sat quietly next to me, piping in occasionally during mine and Phil's conversation.

Renee, a woman of her forties, looked quite youthful for her age. She did, however, look a little unhealthy. I wondered if it was the change in weather—coming straight from Florida to Washington would give anyone a real temperature shock.

I ate my entire plate, starving—still conversing over the table with Phil about his minor league team. Their failures and triumphs—all very amusing scenarios. I couldn't help but let my eyes drift off to his side where Bella sat, every now and then. She was just staring at the table blankly, regrettably.

We shouldn't have come, she clearly wasn't enjoying herself. But then, she was the one who invited me.

Once we had finished, we decided to retreat to Bella's apartment for coffee—American black, not some cappuccino shit.

The dining floor was relatively empty by the time we vacated our table. The hostess waved us goodnight as we made our way over to the exit.

I was really growing irritated with Bella—why would she insist on coming if she was going to be like this? Maybe something else was wrong and she hasn't told me.

I held the glass door open for everyone as they filed out into the misty streetlight. Bella paused, almost as if she'd forgotten something. She glanced at Phil, a peeved look on her face before she excused herself to go to the bathroom. I began to follow but Phil put a hand on my shoulder.

"No, I'll do it, son. Don't worry," he smiled warmly.

I frowned, glanced back at Bella's retreating form before nodding. Phil followed after her then until they were out of sight.

I sighed, stuffing my hands in my pockets before turning to talk with Renee—properly for the first time tonight.

"So, how does it compare?" I asked, motioning with my hand to the city.

She smiled and laughed a little.

"How does what compare?"

"Washington with Florida. Seattle with Jacksonville." I said, stuffing my hand back in my jacket pocket. My breath puffed out of my mouth and nose in little clouds.

It was cold tonight. I hunched my shoulders slightly as Renee began to describe mostly how the weather affected her.

Just as I had guessed.

For some reason—my military instincts were on overdrive. I frowned to myself—it felt almost as if we were in the calm before the storm. Some creepy prophecy shit. I shook my head, trying to clear it of all that lunacy.

But I couldn't shake that inkling in the pit of my stomach that usually told me some major shit was going down as we spoke.

I glanced back inside the restaurant—empty. No Bella. No Phil. Nobody in sight.

I bit my lip.

"I think I'll just see what's taking them so long," I said, poking my thumb to the door and jerking my head backwards.

Renee smiled tightly, a hint of...sheepishness in her eyes. It looked like she knew something and was worried about someone knowing—that if she even knew, she'd be in deep shit.

She looked...ashamed. I shook it off for the moment and started back towards the ladies room, where I would probably find Phil standing outside of, knocking on the door or waiting quietly for his step-daughter.

Once inside the heat of the restaurant, it felt a little stuffy. The feeling grew—pronounced and uncomfortable.

As I rounded the corner that lead to the bathrooms, the corridor was empty. I looked back towards the entrance, surely missing them or something. But all I could see was Renee, waiting patiently out in the cold.

Had they left out the back way? Why would they do that?

"Hel—" someone shrieked, their words cut off.

My head whipped around to the direction of screams. Muffled curses sounded from inside the ladies room. There it was again—my instinct. Except now—it wasn't all about avoiding trouble. It was about bashing some mother fucker up.

My hands clenched into fists as I barrelled down the corridor, throwing the fucking door open. It slammed hard against the tiled wall. My eyes encountered a sight I would never forget.

"Edward!" Bella cried, pinned to the opposite wall by...Phil?

I was stunned for a split second, before it was all put into perspective.

Markers, events in the past that have meaning. I remembered that night—when Bella had been assaulted by five other men at the club. The look on her face, it wasn't just fear, it was recognition. Deja vu. It had happened to her before. She was closed off about talking of her family. She harboured an intense hostility towards this man—for some obvious fucking reasons.

She moved to Forks to get away from him. She said her Mother had been oblivious—not elaborating on what she was oblivious about.

It all pieced itself together in my head as my body lunged for the fucker.

A part of me...just...snapped.

I don't know what it was. The fact that I had been freaking out over Bella's safety for the past few days, the idea of _anyone_ but me touching her, someone she trusted violating her, or maybe the fact that she didn't tell me about this fucker and what he had done to her.

I could have been there for her when she felt like she was alone. We wouldn't have ever come to this fucking place. And she wouldn't be in this fucking situation again. I was breathing hard, Bella's eyes flicked over his shoulder to where I fast approached. I'm sure he would have backed off had he had enough time—judging by the look of fear on his fucking face.

I snaked my arm around his neck, hauling him back with me. I tightened my choke-hold on him before kicking his knees—he cried out in pain—causing him to crumple to the floor.

That's when I realised his pants were undone. I kicked him in the ribs, he wheezed and coughed, curling into the foetal position.

"You filthy, fucking, pathetic cunt!" I growled furiously.

"Nobody touches her!"

I stepped over the piece of shit to get to Bella who had slid down to the floor, her knees held up to her chest.

Never in the entire time I had known Bella—the former Stone Queen—had I seen her this...broken. Vulnerable. She was...defenceless. I cautiously stepped closer, her eyes were glued on Phil. I took another slow step, showing her that I was of no threat. She flinched, her eyes moving up to my face, glassy and red from crying.

My jaw tensed. I knew then that I had no other option. I would have to kill Phil—slowly.

I wasn't fucking around with the concept either. I would do it—because there wasn't anything I wouldn't do for Bella.

Trusting I would be sane enough to carry it out after Bella told me everything.

I bent my knees and crouched beside her, taking her in. Was she hurt? It didn't look like it. She had most of her face obscured by her hair. I needed to know how far he had gotten, but was afraid that if I touched her, she would start freaking out. That would be counter-productive.

The sick fuck made a gargling noise then groaned as he tried hoisting himself up off of the ground.

Bella cringed into herself—I'd hate to know how she felt right now, but if I could, I'd feel the pain for her, a thousand times over.

'Cause that's what people who fucking love each other, do.

I reached my hand to her shoulder, brushing her hair back. Her straps were torn and hanging loose. I tore my jacket off, she leaned forward so I could cover her with it. She slumped back against the wall, gaining some form of normalcy and composure. She sniffed, wiping her hand under her eyes. I grabbed her chin with my hand so I could look into her eyes. She stared back.

"Just give me a reason," I whispered, my voice barely intelligible.

It almost came out as a growl. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her even more than she already was.

Her lip trembled. I gently stroked it with my thumb, but urged her to give me a fucking explanation.

"I'll take care of you," I promised her.

"So, give me a fucking reason....Right. Now." I demanded.

She sucked in a breath, glancing to Phil's struggling form then back at me, conflict clear in her deep brown irises.

She bit her lip, an internal battle waging behind her eyes. She should know that she could tell me anything. This is something that I would have fucking wanted to know. This shit was fucking imperative.

"Damnit Bella." I growled impatiently.

"Yes," she wailed.

I was taken aback by her abruptness.

"Yes, he touched me. He used to touch me every fucking day." She whimpered, tears running down her flushed cheeks.

"He made me touch him back." She sneered.

"Every. Single. Fucking. Day." She said.

Each word raked through my body, a new rage building—as if the one before wasn't bad enough. And, I had let him _follow her?_

I gently released her face, running my finger tips across her cheekbone.

"Did you hear that?" she snarled at Phil who was crawling for the exit.

Her voice rose a few octaves.

"I told somebody! Now the whole world will know you tried to fuck your step-daughter!" she screamed.

I tensed at each word, wondering how long I could keep myself from finding a steak knife out there to use on Phil. Combat style, stealthily.

I was trained—I knew how it could be done.

I had been successful before in taking someone's life. Why stop now—when this one was so close to home? Bella stumbled to her feet then, grasping at my arms to keep from falling back down.

"Every day I begged you to fucking stop! I begged you! But you just kept going, further and further! You took something from me! Something I'll never get back!"

I couldn't stand it anymore. I let go of Bella and charged for Phil who had just managed to stand upright. I heard him huff out the air that was in his lungs as I tackled him. He thumped into the door, the wood splintered under both of our weights. A strangled growl escaped my lips as I shoved him with more force. He staggered out into the corridor, weak and pathetic. Unworthy of anything but a shallow grave.

He was slowly making his way in between the tables. I followed, stalking his every step.

"She's given me a reason, Phil." I said flatly.

"What's your reason? What are you going to tell me so I won't kill you?" I asked.

He stumbled further, not answering. The hostess noticed, a shocked look on her face as she watched what happened.

"I'm not sure I'm going to give you a choice actually," I murmured, watching as he struggled to find the exit.

Renee waited outside, still unaware of what had and was still happening.

"Did you give her a choice?" I demanded, my voice growing louder.

He tried frantically to get away, shoving chairs out of his path and clutching a hand to his side. He missed his footing, tripping over onto his hands and knees.

I took the chance to land another kick to his stomach.

"_Did you give her a choice?_" I roared.

He gurgled out a response.

"I didn't mean to..."

My entire frame shook with anger. I squinted my eyes closed, gnashed my teeth together and breathed out of my nose. I could feel my heart beat speed up, my urge to make him fucking suffer increased. He pushed the door open with his hands, crawling forward. It alerted Renee, her eyes went wide, her mouth dropping open. I could vaguely hear Bella behind me, saying something. Telling me to wait for the cops.

Not in this lifetime.

I kicked him in the ass so he fell head-first down the steps and onto the black top of the parking lot. He rolled before finally stopping at Renee's feet.

She gasped and whimpered over him, stroking her hands over his face like he was an injured puppy.

I sneered at the both of them. I pushed Renee out of the way.

"No!" she screamed.

"Stop! You'll hurt him! Don't!" she begged.

"Too fucking late." I muttered, grasping the collar of his jacket and hauling him back to his feet.

I left one hand clenched around his shirt to keep him upright. I pulled my right hand back, wrenching it forward until it connected with his face, blood spattering from his mouth. I did it again. More blood, his face was pink and bruised. I did it again—I distantly heard approaching cars, Bella and Renee's voices.

I was breathing hard, watching as I pummelled the shit out of him—lavishing in every blow he took to his fucking face. By the time I was done with him, he wouldn't have a fucking face. Nobody would be able to tell who the fuck he was. I'd tear his fucking body apart, starting with his dick.

My hand tightened, my other wound back again, awaiting the next satisfying hit.

A car advanced up the street, fast. I glanced absently over the fucker's shoulder and was met with another unforgettable sight. My breath hitched in my throat—my thoughts instantly swaying from vengeance to fear. Fear for Bella. I swiftly dropped the fucker just as I heard it.

Everything happened in slow-motion—my heart slowed, my movements slowed, but the bullet did not. I saw the car—the person inside.

He had come for me, like he promised he would.

He had come to take something from me, the way I took something from him.

Pay back.

I whirled around, my feet moving hastily. I saw Bella racing towards me, dropping my jacket on the ground, her face a mask of shock and terror. Her eyes wide as she sprinted to me—horrified. We met halfway. I grabbed her around the waist and yanked her closer, moving behind the alley that bordered the restaurant. I practically lifted her up off her feet. Everything sped up then.

I threw Bella against the brick wall, pressing my body against hers protectively. Her hands were wrapped around my torso, her hands clenched in my shirt.

I was breathing hard—trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.

I was slowly registering everything. I opened my eyes, not realising I had closed them reflexively. A lot of good it would do when faced with a forty-eight calibre. Sounds reverberated through my ear drums. Screams, gasping, tyres screeching, gunshots.

Then, sirens.

It was dark and wet in the alleyway. Bella was shivering underneath me, her breath hot against my neck as I held my body over hers—shielding her. The car sped off as they realised the police were on their way. I still hadn't relaxed my stance. I stayed, solid and unmoving until I knew there was no threat to us.

I managed to control my ragged breathing, gauging that we were no longer in danger—at least for now.

I slowly leaned back from Bella but she clung to me, refusing to let me go. She was cowering into my chest. I must have scared the shit out of her. Everything must have scared the shit out of her. I needed to get her the fuck away from here. She was going to pieces in my arms and I sure as hell wasn't thinking straight. All I had on my mind was bloodlust and revenge for the fuckers who had intended on killing her—and the other fucker who had different intentions altogether.

"Renee," she whispered, her eyes bugging out as she looked up at me.

I grasped her tightly around the waist, moving her behind me as I slowly walked up the alley way and out into the open. To the right of the buildings surrounding the parking lot, I could see red and blue lights reflecting off of windows and cars. Bella grasped the back of my shirt as she stood behind me.

I poked my head around the corner, everything was silent, apart from the sound of sirens in the distance. It was the eye of the storm—everything seems fine, calm—the worst was yet to come...

My eyes fell on Renee and Phil. Bella moved around me. I huffed out a breath before grabbing her shoulders and pressing her back to me, covering her eyes.

"No," I ordered sharply.

She shook her head and squirmed out of my hold, stumbling over to her Mother and her step-Father. I covered my mouth, slowly sauntering over to them, blinking my eyes rapidly to adjust to what I was seeing. Bella stood there, Phil lay at her feet. Renee's sobs broke through the noiseless atmosphere. She cried out, slumping over his bloody body.

I didn't feel remorse. I felt as though the Universe had done it's job.

Justice had been served. I walked to Bella, wrapping my arms around her shoulders as she stared, wide-eyed at the monster she hated.

She blinked, as though she was only just realising the enormity of it. Renee had her clothes and her arms coated in Phil's blood, he had gunshot wounds to his back. My guess, was the fatal one landed right between his shoulder blades and into his heart. A tactic I had once used. Something you learn in the military. Fatal shot.

I took a deep breath. Walker, he was onto me—he wanted to take something from me just as I had taken his job, his whole life, from him. I stared at Bella as she stared at Renee—going to pieces over her husband, her partner, her monster.

The only reason I would feel any empathy for the situation, is because Renee had just lost her husband, someone she loved—even if he was a mindless sexual predator. Bella...didn't move. It didn't even seem like she was conscious. She barely blinked—so shocked. My head turned to the sound of the emergency vehicles, turning into the lot and screeching to a halt before us. Their headlights blurred my vision momentarily. Their sirens blared for a moment longer until they stepped out of their cars, rushing over to the scene. Paramedics came running, duffle bags in hand, and a stretcher.

He was as good as dead.

I shook my head.

The police officers approached then, cautious, more calculating. They were taking in the surroundings, cataloguing every detail they could in case it meant something later on.

I gripped Bella tighter, she finally snapped out of her haze, only to fall limply in my arms.

~~~___~~~

I was lying in bed with Bella. She was still out like a fucking bulb—her mind needed to calm down, to protect itself from everything. If there was any time to pass out to avoid the bad shit, she picked the right fucking time.

It left me to stew over this evening.

First priority—to keep Bella safe.

She was in more danger than I had anticipated. I rubbed a hand over my face in frustration. I sighed, slow and deep, glancing at Bella as she slept beside me in her bed. Her chest moving up and down in steady precision. I ran my fingertips along her jaw—she didn't even flinch.

I began to worry if she would ever fucking wake up. That wouldn't be very fair, now, would it. She couldn't just leave me alone like that.

In any case, I needed to have her...always.

At least some things about us were in the open now. She would have to learn about _all_ of my past—not just minor details, tip-toeing around the important shit. And, now, I knew about her.

She had a horrific past—probably one that she was afraid to share, or felt ashamed of. She was a strong willed, stubborn woman. She thinks she can solve, or do, or be a part of anything. She thought she could deal with it alone. Some people, sometimes, just need a little help.

Now Phil was dead. I didn't know how she would take that. My only regret is that I didn't get to do the fucking job with my own hands. Rationality played no part in human emotion—rationality is a mathematical concept.

To love is to be irrational.

And killing someone _for_ someone...well, that may be considered irrational. In any other world, or in any other time before now, it would have been exactly that to me.

Bella had changed all that—made everything irrational, rational.

I sighed again, wondering what the hell I was going to do. Maybe we could leave town...? Or would that just give him more incentive to come after us?

Bella gasped, sitting upright in bed. I sat up, snaking an arm around her waist. I had taken her dress off and put her in one of my t-shirts she had stolen from me. I had stripped off my shirt too, it was dotted with blood.

"Bella," I whispered into her neck, kissing it tenderly.

I wanted to calm her down, knock her off her intense emotional high. She brought her hand to her forehead, staring at the wall. She clenched her eyes shut the opened them, blinking rapidly for about ten seconds before she turned to look at me. I frowned, sad, as I could see nothing but remorse and shame in her eyes.

"Renee?" she asked.

"At home." I answered simply.

She swallowed hard, her fists clenching.

"Phil?" she asked, her voice lower, hard and more hoarse—displaying no affection.

Good.

I shook my head in response.

She bit her lip and shuddered, putting her fingers to her lips and nibbling on her nails. She shook her head repeatedly.

"It could have been you," she whispered gruffly.

"It could have been _you._" I responded, smoothing her mahogany hair down her back.

"I knew it," she whimpered, burying her face in my chest.

"Knew what?" I asked breathlessly.

"I knew he'd come for me...I just didn't realise he wanted to kill me." She explained, her voice cracking every second word.

I frowned, still skittish. I need to figure out what to do next. I shook my head, trying to clear it—what was she talking about? How did she even know about Private Walker?

"How did you know about him?" I asked, mortified.

She moved her face so she could stare me in the eyes—her face morphed into a confused frown, too.

"How do _you_ know?" she retorted.

I frowned.

"The man—the one who shot at us tonight. You know him, Bella?" I questioned, shocked.

She nodded her head vigorously.

"He used to work at Blood Moon. James was the old body guard...the one who...attacked me."

I gulped.

**You know....you could...I don't know...review me? Just cause you love me and all. And, I kind of want around forty or more reviews before my next chapter...? What's that you say? Blackmail? Pah! Birobird uses specialised Psychological persuasion techniques...yeah, alright, it is. What are you going to do? Review!**

**Click the green button and Edward will give you hot, slippery bar sex ;) Nice.**


	17. China Doll

**Heya guys. It's been a while hasn't it?**

**As I remember, last chapter I had asked for roughyl 40 reviews. Well, that was just a little too much wasn't it? NOT. I totally got 54!!**

**See, children? Blackmail totally fuckin' works. Spread the word! **

**Anyways, I'd love to give a shout-out to Bellalullabye09 (for peer pressuring the shit out of me to join Twitter, well, it wasn't really that much pressure. I'd do anything for another update of LAMTAF) and to Cristalchik (for sending me a Edward-a-riffic PM about my stories and such)**blushes** and lastly, Aikotayo (because this awesomely cool Italian girl is going to translate 'Indecent Affairs' into Italian and post it on an Italian fanfic site. I'm so honoured I almost wet my pants. **tries to dry crotch with fan****

**Thank you to all who have reviewed BM--not exactly a good nickname for it but oh well. Maybe I should just name it B-Moon.**

**Yeah...**

**Okay, I also have another confession **takes deep breath then speaks in rush** .**

**There, I said it. Are you happy now? Good. Oh, I totally went to the 'BODY SHOP' today and tried this shimmer lotion--totally looks like my skin sparkles :D And it was a fluke of course that I was seeing New Moon that exact same day. Gosh.**

**Yeah, so add me on Twitter and shizz, I'm birobird93, who would have guessed?**

**A reccomendation: Listen to the New Moon score by Alexandre Desplat during the LEMON. So sweet it's almost puke-worthy. ;)**

* * *

Edward had gone into stealth mode, as he so called it.

I called it 'fuck-what-am-I-going-to-fucking-do?' mode. Or, maybe more along the lines of 'holy-shit-this-fucked-up-situation-is-making-me-insane-and-think-about-crazy-solutions' mode.

Either one, Edward was on the fucking war path. I didn't blame him. Although, it was all too much to handle for me. I usually had a healthy grip on things, being able to deal with delicate situations such as these with the upmost ease—and by upmost ease I mean it was because I never used to give a fuck.

Nothing ever really had anything to do with me...until now that is.

I sighed as I watched Edward pace in my living room. I was standing behind my kitchen counter, waiting for Esme to come home. She was working hard these past couple of nights. And tonight, being there without two of her employees would have been trying enough—but to get a call from me half-way through her busiest hour about an emergency was a lot to ask.

But I wanted her to know.

I had told her everything. About my mother, about Phil—how he had been shot.

Then lastly, about James.

How I had come within an inch of death tonight, and even worse? How Edward had come within an inch of death tonight.

Somehow he didn't see it as that important, only the fact that I was safe and relatively unharmed was what had him sane.

He was running his hands through his hair distractedly, staring at the floor as he kept walking the length of the kitchen counter. He was shaking his head in disbelief, raking his fingers over his face in frustration. I could sense how tense he was, not just by looking at him, but it was an almost palpable essence in the air around him.

As if he exuded it.

"Edward," I began.

His eyes shot to me. I could see a million different emotions buried behind them. It was like watching a river of glass travel behind his green irises, flickering and shimmering, thousands of decisions all forming the multi-faceted stream.

I bit my lip, worried that if I said something wrong he would end up exploding again.

"Edward, maybe you need to sit down..."

He scoffed, ignoring my suggestion.

"Sit down?" he asked, incredulously, shaking his head and resuming his pacing.

"How can I sit down? How can I even relax?!" he demanded, his voice raising.

He stopped then, leaning his hands against the granite counter and staring me deep in the eyes.

"How can I relax?" he repeated angrily.

His eyes blazing...the river of green.

"Just...just calm down for a minute, we're fine—" I explained, grasping at straws.

Edward intercepted.

"Bella! For fuck sake!" he yelled.

I flinched.

"_We are not fine!"_ he retorted, exasperated with this conversation.

I had kept telling him that everything would be fine—not that I was completely certain of that. But...it had to be. He wouldn't hear of it anyway.

He was as fucking stubborn as....as....well, me.

"Get it through your fucking head, Isabella! We are not fine! We could have been killed! _You_ could have been killed! And now, he's coming after you. Now he has two fucking reasons! So, don't _sit_ here and _tell_ me that everything is fucking _fine!"_ he managed to get out, his voice strangled and harsh.

I glared at him. Yes, I knew what the fuck was going on. I knew. He didn't have to fucking reiterate everything. Of course we were not out of the dark yet, but we were still breathing weren't we?

I surprised myself by becoming the optimistic half of the relationship.

I gnashed my teeth together to keep from snapping back at him. Yeah, he may have been an ass hat towards me just then, but he was only upset because he was stressed.

He had been alright before, whilst we were talking in bed. He had been mostly calm with the situation, waiting for me to wake the fuck up from my semi-coma. But then, hearing those words from my mouth, relaying information—that James and I had a history—he went fucking insane. He even threw things around the room.

I decided then that I should leave him in peace to deal with it. I was only adding fuel to the fire trying to convince him that I was, in fact, fine.

I wasn't injured, I wasn't bleeding. We were fine—he just didn't see it that way.

I slowly circled the kitchen counter island, skirting the living room to saunter into my bedroom again. I was still tired, even after falling unconscious for around an hour and a half.

I turned off the light switch at the wall on the way in, leaving the door open in case he changed his mind. I briskly hopped back into my coverlet cocoon. But it wasn't the same, not without Edward sleeping beside me.

I sighed, grumbling silently to myself as I resigned my cheek to the cold pillow. They should be electrically heated. Maybe I should invest in an electric blanket. I had more than enough money...

The bed dipped on the other side of me. I had my back to him and I wasn't going to turn around. If he wanted to look at me, he'd come over to my side.

Maybe it was childish, but I was Bella Swan—who gives a fuck.

I waited petulantly as he scooted further over to my side. His warm hands wrapped around my torso underneath the blanket. He gently pulled me to him, rolling me onto my back. I closed my eyes defiantly. He sighed, bringing his hand to my face and cupping my cheek.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," He murmured apologetically.

I opened my eyes then to stare into his.

"I'm just fucking going insane over here while you're all 'fine' and...carefree," he told me, stroking my face tenderly.

I sighed, returning his gesture, reaching my fingers up to his jaw line. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, leaning his face into my hand.

"I mean, it's not my fault that I can't control my anger...I just..." his teeth clenched together.

He leaned his face down to mine, burying his nose in my hair. His arms wound tightly around me, only letting enough space for me to breathe.

"I can't very well keep calm when there's someone out to hurt you." He mumbled into my neck.

I turned my face to meet his. I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling the softness of his bronze tresses.

"Whatever he tries, I'll be there to stop him. I'll fucking kill him myself."

My eyes widened and my lip began to tremble.

"Edward, he's...he's dangerous!" I retorted, extremely angered that he would even think of putting himself in that position.

"You can't expect me to sit here and watch as he gets closer to you. I won't do it, Bella. I fucking refuse. What if next time we're not so lucky?" he reasoned.

I admit; he put up a good defence. However, I was still opposing his idea of becoming the vigilante.

"What if next time he shows up at the club, or works out where you live, huh? What then?" his tone growing more desperate.

I felt mother fucking tears well up in my eyes.

"What if he succeeds in taking you away from me? What if he gets what he wants?" he asked.

"Even if he did," he went on, his voice cracking.

"It doesn't mean I'd stop fighting. Putting right and wrong aside, you're my first priority. Whether you like it or not."

"And, I'm not going to let you jeopardise your safety unnecessarily because of this, whether _you_ like it or not." I retorted as he ground his teeth together.

"Bella, it's not an issue of _my_ safety, it's you that he needs to get to in order to hurt me,"

"I'm well aware of that," I snapped defensively, growing tired with this conversation already.

"But I don't doubt that if you prove more trouble than you're worth to him, then he'll end you quickly, and possibly keep come after me for kicks." I told him.

He huffed angrily into my hair, blowing his hot breath against my neck.

"I don't care about getting hurt. Besides, it will take an enormous effort on his behalf...he was never good, strategically. Even tonight, he went in, guns blazing with no plan at all. That's why he failed, and that's why he will always fail." His voice held a certainty, one that I hadn't heard before.

Had he changed his mind about us being fine, then?

"He could never articulate anything without great thought. He was ruthless; it's what lead him to be kicked out of the army anyway. That, and, my statement about what happened that day." He reminisced sadly.

"He's even more stupid than I previously thought if he thinks he can come between us that easily. To me, we're unbreakable." He insisted.

I sucked in a deep, shaky breath. I was desperate to have him then. I needed him, needed to touch and to feel. Anything less just wasn't enough. Not by a long shot.

I lifted my head up, pushing his right shoulder down so he was laying flat on his back. My actions were beyond reason—beyond rationality at this point. The deep, buried desire, thirst, hunger, lust all came barrelling through my senses.

I threw my leg over his hip, straddling his lap. I leaned down, taking his mouth. He was breathing heavily, our lips desperate and frantic to gain more purchase from the other. I could feel the tears spilling over relentlessly. I ignored them, grasping frantically at his clothes, his body—everything that could be taken away within the blink of an eye.

"Bella, what are you doing?" Edward murmured, concerned—not the right tone of voice for what I had in mind.

"I want you. Right now." I explained, pulling my shirt off.

He tried to halt my movements.

"We don't have to..." he whispered softly, touching my neck.

"You mean you don't _want_ to." I corrected grudgingly, dropping my arms to my sides.

"No, no," he objected, his hands palming my waist.

"If it's really what you want, and not because you're feeling bad about yourself..."

I snorted.

"Please, Edward. I'm horny. I feel like we need to be as close as we can be right now. Don't take anything for granted, you know?"

He smirked, running his finger tips down my stomach, over my naval.

"And your cock is just...too delicious to go to waste _any_ night of the week."

I felt myself become strangely split between two categories of emotion. I was exultant, happy, playful—Phil, my demon, was gone, dead, erased. But on the other, more perilous hand, I was desperate, anxious, worried—mostly for everything that had happened tonight. Nearly losing Edward, nearly getting hurt myself, although that was a mere set-back in comparison to the former. And there was also the fact that I had another pursuer. One intent on hurting me and, in turn, hurting Edward.

I was ripped in half; my emotion's heightened, straining to be contained within me.

With a few more tugs and pulls in the right directions, I was naked on top of Edward; his erection still sheathed but more than apparent as it rested against my ass, waiting.

I rolled off him for the moment so he could remove the barrier of fabric from his body. Once he had pulled his pants off, kicking them over the end of the bed, he grabbed my leg, curling his hand around my calf and pulling it over to the other side of his hips. I hovered over his tip, teasing him slightly with my wetness, letting it gently coat his head. He hissed, throwing his head back in what looked like pained anticipation.

I bit my lip, running my hand behind his neck to pull his face to mine; at the same time, I slid down his solid cock. It throbbed within me; I elicited a moan, low and throaty as he continued to devour my lips. His kisses turned harder, frantic, as if he couldn't get enough. He ran his hands up my arms as I leaned them on either side of his pelvis. I let my fingers roam, skimming and tugging through his hair, scraping gently over his shoulder blades. I placed open-mouthed kisses against his collar bones, his chest.

His chest vibrated with a groan under my lips.

He continued to touch and feel his way around my entire form—savouring everything, as if relaying it, embedding it into a permanent memory. I caressed his cheek, running my index finger along his angular jaw, covered with stubble. His tongue flicked out between his lips before claiming my mouth again. I sucked on his bottom lip before parting them, taking his tongue inside me. I began to unceremoniously rock my hips back and forth, slowly, a torturous pace.

I found myself unwilling to let it end.

Our breathing became shallow panting. My body was in tune with his, leaning my breasts to his chest, my nipples puckered. I could feel his heart beat in rhythm with my own—impossible.

A thrill of pleasure quaked through our connected bodies. My emotions ran wild; unwanted tears sprouting because of fucking everything.

I was terrified, frantic and consumed.

All three were evident in the way I held his body to mine, the way I kept our lips together, not stopping to take a breath. Never relenting as I took him inside me.

It was too much to receive, yet too much to give away.

The streams of hot salty water dripped off the end of my chin and landed on Edward's chest.

I thrust my hips harder. I needed this.

To help me along, Edward grasped my hips, guiding me against his throbbing dick—awarding me with a ripple of ecstasy, a shadow of what was to come.

The fingers that were splayed through his hair, fisted, tugging. I let my head fall back as every motion caught me by surprise. My sensitive clit rubbed against him every time our bodies moved together. I slid up and down his erection, soaking him. My body quivered as did his simultaneously.

"I'm getting close," I told him, opening my eyes to watch him as he moved inside me.

"Me too," he huffed through clenched teeth.

His fingers dug into my sides, he leaned his head forward enough for his mouth to make contact with my breasts. He took a nipple inside his mouth, suckling and lapping at my skin with his tongue.

I groaned.

"Edward,"

"Oh, Bella..."he hissed, growing more strained with the pressure.

I pushed harder, spots of light clouding my vision.

I wailed uncontrollably, the tears not stopping. I rocked once more, my body shuddering in quick successions. My walls clenched around Edward's cock, sending a wave of electricity surging through my veins.

I screamed out his name, letting it fall from my lips like a fucking prayer.

He grunted, finally releasing himself. I watched, marvelled, as he stared back at me—his body tensed inside mine. My bones turned to a weaker consistency.

I collapsed into a boneless heap against him; he let us fall back into the pillows.

I closed my eyes, shedding the last of the tears.

I sighed his name over and over again that night.

He stroked my hair, lulling me to unconsciousness with just the sound of his voice.

"Edward....Edward...Edward." I whispered, falling into a peaceful sleep.

~~~___~~~

Today was a Friday.

Groan.

Of course, it wouldn't be as horribly traumatic if Esme might get off my back about being at work. I had barely considered how she would react come the night I would resume dancing at Blood Moon. But given Esme's parental mentality in regards to yours truly, I shouldn't have expected she would cheer a hoorah and send me the fuck on my way to work.

Not after the week I've had.

Of course, Esme was the lesser of two evils.

"Edward Cullen." I said, protesting scornfully.

"What?" he replied innocently, with wide eyes.

"Put me down. I can walk. I have fuckin' legs." I told him, not entirely liking the whole 'bellas too weak and scared to do anything' attitude.

He rolled his eyes but placed me firmly on my feet at the backdoor of Blood Moon. I walked the necessary two steps to get inside.

Demetri and Felix were playing cards in the basement, their heads snapping up at our arrival. Edward held the door open for me, guiding me in with his hand placed on the small of my back. I sighed and just took it grudgingly.

I will have to get him back somehow. But that was for later thought.

Felix stood up then, noticing my approach. He blocked my exit, placing a gentle but giant hand on my shoulder, his face adorning a solemn expression. As if he was sorry my life was thrown into a metaphorical shit storm.

"Bella. How are you feeling?" he asked gently, squeezing my shoulder for a moment.

"Fine." I said, knowing how much that word pissed Edward off.

I heard a cough behind me and smiled.

"Look, Felix. It's nothing. Just get back to work. I'm not a china doll; I'm not going to shatter into a million fucking pieces. Okay?" I said with possibly a little too much fervour before storming forward and upstairs.

I distantly heard Edward exchange some words with his two colleagues before hastily making his way to ghost my every step.

Jessica and Rosalie both stood up after noticing my entrance into the change rooms. They were indifferent about Edward, a male, being in here with me. They simply didn't care, obviously.

I stared at them for a moment, quirking an eyebrow before rolling my eyes at their absurd need to be sorry for what had happened. Was it some human need to be involved in everything? Because Phil was dead and James was impossible to find; they had to blame someone and the closest person they can think of, being themselves? I didn't know what it was—but if someone told me they were sorry for something they had no part in, one more time, I was going to actually _make_ them sorry.

I sighed, getting to work; applying makeup and changing into my costume.

Rose and Jess both stayed eerily silent whilst in my company. It annoyed me to say the least; they were treating me like a cancer patient.

Once I was finished, I stood up to show Edward. I ran my hands down my body, straightening out the outfit. I was going burlesque tonight.

I had styled my hair into large, shiny ringlets, moulding it into an up-do with loose tendrils around my face. My eyes were smoky grey, red lips and a little blush. It was classic and it was sexy. My dress was a tight corset, red and black lace, with a tiny ruffle of fabric hanging off it for my skirt. The back was laced up tight—I had Rose help with that. I wore black lace, knee-length tights with a black garter and black stiletto boots. To complete the look, I added a red feather to my hair.

I did a pirouette in front of him; his jaw dropped and I took it as a good fucking sign. He didn't say anything or make a move to stand so I grabbed my whip—that's right bitches; I had a mother fucking cat o' nine tails—and began to saunter out into the hallway. I swung the whip absently, letting the knots on the end of the leather cords hit either wall.

Edward appeared in front of me then, blocking my path, a weird expression on his face.

He looked like he was going to pass out or some shit. I frowned, wondering if I should prepare to catch him or run like fuck to go find some help. I was about to say something when he placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Bella." He whispered, swallowing loudly.

He seemed really upset. His gaze wandered down my body then back up to my eyes.

"I _really_ don't know if I can stand out there anymore," he shook his head as if he was refusing to even think about it.

I lifted an eyebrow, confused.

"What are you talking about, Newbie?" I asked casually.

If he was about to start telling me how fragile I was, he seriously wouldn't be getting laid tonight.

"I don't think I'll be able to watch you like this...while you...entertain those men," his face scrunched up in disgust.

My eyes narrowed.

"You'll be fine." I assured him with a roll of my eyes, pushing past to get to back stage.

He growled, catching me by complete fucking surprise. He was barely containing his anger—for what? I didn't know. Edward was like long division, too fucking complex to decipher. He whirled around, grabbing my arm and pushing my body against the hard black wall.

I gasped, shocked.

"Do you fucking know what it's like to watch you parade around for _them?_" he demanded, his face barely an inch away from mine.

His eyes—fierce with certainty yet shattered in conflict.

I shook my head.

His eyes blazed with unbridled fury and revulsion.

"I'm the only one who should get to look at you, your body. You're mine and nobody else's."

I cupped his cheek with my hand in an attempt to calm him down. He closed his eyes, leaning into my touch, his breath coming out hard.

"I am yours." I whispered.

"It's just a job, Edward. Just a job."

He stared at me for a moment, still very displeased.

"Can you at least change into something a little less...fucking sexy?" he pleaded helplessly.

I smiled and shook my head.

"Suck it up, solider. You'll be fine." I told him dismissively, grabbing his chin before placing a searing kiss against his lips.

I felt his arms wind around my waist, holding me tight against his body. I pulled back, his eyes opened, showing his annoyance.

I laughed, placing a chaste kiss on his mouth and wiping my index finger over the smudge of lipstick I had left on him. That was my mark. He reluctantly let me go after that but followed close behind me, practically breathing down my fucking neck. I didn't particularly enjoy it, but if that little show was anything to go by, this was as much space as he'd give me tonight.

I walked up onto stage, feeling like a stranger in a crowd of people. I hadn't been up here in a while—it felt like years. But when the music started to play, I got into my familiar rhythm—basking in the scents and sights of my home away from home.

I got a standing ovation when I cracked my whip. I was enjoying the spotlight again, enjoying the praise I was getting... But there was also something that felt wrong about it. It felt tainted. I was content but not satisfied with it anymore. I kept watching Edward out of the corner of my eye. He was unnecessarily close to the stage at this point, his arms twitching at every movement I made.

I could almost see the plan formulating in his eyes.

I was semi-surprised that he hadn't thrown me over his shoulder yet and dragged me home. I couldn't really understand why he was so upset about this—it's not like I was having sex with these men. But I knew how bad he felt, and I couldn't help but feel guilty that I was the cause.

I stomped my heels, swaying my hips and dipping my ass down to the floor, cracking my whip again—it snapped loudly through the air, causing the audience to howl and whistle.

There was one obnoxious guy in the front, throwing his drink over his face—he said he was 'on fire!' I rolled my eyes. What a cock monger. He continued to guffaw and shout at me, I could tell Edward was trying very hard to restrain himself.

I pivoted around, my eyes landing on his table again—but he wasn't in it anymore.

I bit my lip. Fuck.

I spotted Edward hauling the guy out by his hair, his face livid with anger. I decided to cut my dance short, finishing up early before fleeing off stage to console my overprotective Fuckward.

~~~___~~~

"I can't help it, Bella." He defended himself, his hand tightly wound around mine.

I sighed.

We were strolling down the street outside Blood Moon. Esme had let me go off on a break. Sometimes the pity parties weren't so bad—she never usually let me have such long breaks. I had dressed into my civilian clothes; Edward would never allow me to go out in my costume, even if I had a trench coat over it.

It was late afternoon. After Edward had almost beaten that guy to death last night, he had been too worked up to talk about anything, so I decided to wait until today.

Unsurprisingly, he still wasn't fucking thrilled about my still working at the club. He didn't understand how this place was my home—how it had brought me out of the dark ages I used to live in and gave me a fucking chance that no-one else would. Not since Charlie.

I had a seed of doubt in my mind, though—one that told me there was something better on the horizon. But how could that be so? For someone like me?

So, I pushed that musing aside.

"Well..." I began, searching for words but finding none to say.

What would I say?

Sorry?

It wouldn't make him feel any better, I would still be dancing. That's what he was trying to make me stop doing.

"I can provide for you Bella, until you get another job...?" he suggested hopefully.

"But..."

"Please, Bella? I won't be able to stay there; I won't be able to keep working when I have to watch you like that every fucking day. Things are bad enough as it is—James is no-where to be found...but I can still feel him watching us, knowing that until he's dead, you're not safe." He cautioned.

I wonder if he realised just how close he was keeping his body to mine. As if he was about to jump in front of a bullet for me—not that I doubted him; he would do exactly that.

I was scared shitless because of that fact.

"I'll think about it." I allowed, giving him some peace of mind.

We were rounding the corner; the day was growing dim, casting dank shadows throughout the city. My foot steps were halted, Edward tensed for battle. He pulled me behind him, shielding me as our eyes encountered him.

James.

"Stay here," Edward warned; his voice hard.

"No!" I cried weakly, grasping his hand.

James was oblivious to our presence; walking straight into a store he parked outside of. He didn't deliver a single glance in our direction.

I tried in vain to stop him from moving forward. I gripped his arms like a child, begging him not to go. What if James was armed? He was off-the-handle type of fucking crazy. He would shoot him in broad daylight if he had the chance.

"I will not be responsible for you getting hurt, Isabella," He growled. "Now, go!"

I shook my head defiantly; we were paused next to James's truck. I could hear his voice, coming closer to us. I gasped quietly before Edward cursed, opening the back door of the red jeep and throwing me inside before jumping in behind me. Edward pushed me over the back seats and into the trunk so we were hidden better.

He was lying on top of me; his eyes staring into mine as we listened for an approach.

"...so don't tell anyone about it," James told someone seriously.

The unidentified man spoke in response.

"Not a problem. Make sure you use that thing safely—" he paused to laugh.

"Okay, then, well if that's your game I never met you, I don't know about this exchange whatsoever. Make sure that whoever will be at the business end of that thing won't be able to trace it back to either of us. I don't want any trouble, buddy."

James chuckled.

"Sure. Besides, I don't plan on leaving witnesses."

With that, his footsteps advanced. He walked to the driver's side of the car, opening the door and hopping in.

I held Edward tight as the car rumbled beneath us, speeding off.


	18. Inferno

**Hey guys, this chapter was really hard to get out. I have no idea. I guess I just wasn't exactly in "the zone" haha "the twilight zone" when i was trying to write. But, I FINALLY got it done and here is the final product. Hope I didn't leave you unhappy. :)**

* * *

_All of these lines across my face_

_Show you the story of who I am_

_So many stories of where I've been_

_And how I got to where I am_

_But these stories don't mean anything_

_When you've got no-one to tell them to_

_It's true, I was made for you_

_I climbed across the mountain tops_

_Travel across the ocean blue_

_I cross over lines and broke all the rules_

_And baby I broke them all for you_

_(The Story- Brandie Carlile)_

Well, what the fuck were we supposed to do now?

I was warring on the inside between being shit scared and furiously angry. Scared of James and angry with Edward.

His prior anger and lust for vengeance against James had caused him to act irrationally; throwing us both into turmoil as he hid us in James' car. What a dick move.

He was absolutely in no state of mind to be making decisions like this; ones that could get us hurt or killed.

I gripped onto his shirt tightly, my fingers cramping and my knuckles turning white as the bone strained against the flesh. My anxiety was matched in Edward's eyes; they were widened, probably only just realising what we had done. Or, rather, what _he _had done.

I had considered it before now; one wrong move and someone could get hurt.

Edward had already taken the liberty of making the first wrong move.

How many more before it came down to life and death?

Would it be me, or him who eventually determines our fate with another senseless action?

It was difficult, almost painful under Edward's body weight. The floor of the Jeep was uneven; the carpet gathered in the corner, the corrugated metal beneath it quickly became very awkward to lie on. I was also pretty sure there was a tyre iron somewhere under there, digging into my back.

It smelled of fuel, dirt and leather. Nothing outwardly pleasant. Although I doubted James had invested as much thought into his hygiene or the look and smell of his vehicle when all he had was murder on his mind.

The ultimate crime of passion.

But what did he have to gain? Was he that completely lost, that he had nothing to lose? Had he no weaknesses at all?

What did love do to us? The human race.

James had loved me—he thought he did—and my rejection drove him to madness.

Edward and I loved each other. But how did that make us stronger in the face of mortality? In my thinking, it only left us prone to tragedy. Loving someone gave you a weakness.

James had exploited this in Edward.

Edward loved me and James planned to use that fact in order to gain revenge on his former colleague.

Or, was it because, facing my own mortality, I was deduced to playing the blame game? Right now, I was wondering if there was any point to falling in love with Edward. And because I couldn't bear to blame Edward—especially when it wasn't his fault and he blamed himself enough for the two of us—that I had to pin the responsibility on someone, _something!_

So what had been the fundamental cause?

Was it _love_ that would end us?

The Jeep hopped over a bump in the road, causing us to jolt and Edward to squash me further. I had to hold back a squeak of pain. Edward was _heavy!_

"Get off me." I mouthed; my lungs were unable to expand when he was crushing me.

He slowly tried to slide himself from me and onto the floor, cringing when he would make the slightest noise and wincing whenever the car would rattle us after going over some rough terrain. His hand sought out mine, grasping tightly, while his other hand reached above his head, bracing himself against the wall as James took the car round sharp corners.

My motion-sickness was playing up and I had to clamp my mouth shut and keep my eyes tightly closed—the rough motion of the car was going to make me hurl.

I opened my eyes to glance at Edward.

He looked anguished.

"I'm sorry," he mouthed, no volume in his voice.

I squeezed my eyes closed; I hated seeing him so pained.

He knew what he had done, and he knew the possible consequences...for the both of us. He looked regretful—but that wouldn't help us now.

What we needed was an escape; a diversion.

If only Edward had a gun! I wouldn't have to feel as worried about him as I did now. He would try to protect me. That meant that he would be in the line of fire; he'd become the most susceptible to getting hurt because he was trying to be noble.

Fuck that.

The rumble of the engine dimmed and my breathing hitched. We were stopping. I stared at Edward, who stared back, calculating. The car came to a complete stop and I could feel my heart beat wrenching faster. I tried to calm myself with the thought that perhaps he wouldn't even notice us here. Once he had exited the car to do whatever he was going to do—we could leave and forget about this ordeal. At least then, we knew where he was; we knew he hadn't fled the city—although that was already obvious to the both of us—and we had an idea of where to find him. He could be caught.

My anxiety that had been climbing rapidly toward a fit of despair, slowly spiralled down as I pondered this. But Edward shifted out of the corner of my eye. I glanced toward him, his eyes frozen on something behind me.

Grocery bags.

I jumped when James' voice sounded outside the car.

"Yeah, yeah, woman. I got your fucking Captain Morgan," he muttered toward the end.

Edward grabbed me just as the back door swung open.

James looked taken aback; he jumped when he noticed us there.

"Fuck!" he hissed before covering his heart with his hand.

Recognition; a sly smile spread over his mouth. He chuckled; this was almost too perfect a situation for him. This is what he wanted; Edward and I—defenceless.

"What do we have here—" his words were cut short when Edward lunged.

" No, Edward! Don't!" I cried, crawling out of the Jeep.

I took a moment to scan my surroundings—we were outside of a house, a small wood cabin, at least an acre of land surrounding us. How long had we been driving for, half an hour? More? The sun was low, hardly visible through the trees surrounding us. Where were we?

Edward threw James into the gravel driveway.

He growled, throwing punches into his face and receiving a few of his own in return. What was I going to do? I thought frantically. I considered jumping on top of them, but they were moving too fast, I'd only become an annoying obstruction that could cost Edward as much as it could cost James.

I pulled on my hair, desperate.

I turned around in a circle, searching for something...a rock? I thought again—the tyre iron!

I leaned back into the car, grabbing the tyre iron and wielding it in what I hoped look like a threatening manner.

Never had I felt so weak even with a weapon in my hands.

"Stop!" I yelled, bringing the heavy metal bar back, indicating my next move was to swing.

But the only thing I did was distract Edward—James didn't even spare me a glance, his hand reached his jacket while he used his knees to push Edward off of him. I was torn between keeping my eyes on James and assessing Edward for injury.

James had it in for me too, not just for Edward. I could blame myself if anything happened to him.

I realised what he was going to do—what he had concealed beneath his clothes. Edward realised too, sensing what was coming next.

He charged.

"No!" I screamed.

Edward managed to wrestle the gun away from his direction. They struggled, trying to gain the upper hand or to incapacitate the opponent.

I was fluttering and twitching beside them with my weapon in hand. How would I use it? I needed James to have his back to me, or at least have Edward out of the way so I could get a good hit in. So I could do damage, preferably not to Edward too.

They brawled, groans and grunts of pain and frustration. This was going nowhere.

"Get up!" I ordered them.

They didn't listen.

I wanted it all to stop!

"Hey!" I screeched; stepping up to them and holding the tyre iron up to James' face.

They paused—James struck Edward and rolled to his left, away from me. Edward stumbled back, ready to attack again when James pulled a gun. I gasped, throwing my weapon. It cracked against James' hand, successfully propelling it from his now mangled fingers. Two of them seemed to be standing at the wrong angle. Edward made a move to retrieve the gun but James grabbed his ankle, hauling him back down to the ground. So, I ran after it, picking it up by the barrel before turning the business end onto James.

Edward slowly backed off as James remained still, petulant but mostly unperturbed.

Like he knew we wouldn't win.

I gulped, my hands trembling with the weight of what was going on. I hesitantly stepped forward, holding the gun to his head. My breathing was erratic; yet he maintained an eerie calm. As if he was invincible. Or that he thought I wouldn't shoot him if he moved.

But, would I?

Could I?

I felt a fresh wave of nausea roll over me; taking a human life was never what I had planned. As far from human as James was, it would still be killing him.

I held the gun with both hands, daring him to move.

He shifted.

"Don't move!" I ordered between clenched teeth.

He smirked up at me; quirking an eyebrow, challenging me.

Edward was slowly approaching, his hands flat, palm-up towards me. But he didn't get far enough before a shot rung through the empty space.

It was done.

EPOV

The sun was dim, setting over Chicago. I could make out the faint lines of amber and gold just below the skylines, the smudges of pink and purple hovering over that...and then fading into the cobalt blue above.

I stared for a moment at the innate, beauty. Ethereal.

I sighed, waiting for Bella to join me.

I was standing against the brick wall outside of Blood Moon; the sign glowed iridescently, reflecting a scarlet colour over the sidewalk.

I appreciated this place; grown to be content here, even.

But Bella shouldn't be content here.

She had potential; the ability to be something _other_. Not that she shouldn't be grateful for all that Esme has done for her, she truly should. But Bella just didn't belong here._ I_ knew that and _she_ knew that; she just didn't want to see it.

And apart from that fact; I was growing insanely jealous.

Not that I had any reason to. But...well, shit. I can't control how jealous and angry I get any more than I can control how much I loved Bella.

It was impossible to restrain; just like the weather, or more appropriately, a hurricane.

Last night hadn't been one of my best.

Felix and Demetri had to stop me from pummelling a guy into the pavement for throwing cat-calls at Bella. Naturally, she told me I overreacted.

Maybe I had.

But like I said, it was an uncontrollable reaction.

_One guy off to the side, too close to the stage for my liking, was being particularly crass._

_He wore a beige suit; so he was an office jock. I scowled at him as Bella continue with her mesmerizing routine. He began yelling at her to come off stage; to take her clothes off._

"_Come on, baby!" he cheered._

"_Lemme' give you something to smile about! Woo!"_

_I clenched my teeth, attempting to ignore it._

_But then...my eyes caught the very unsubtle motion of his hand sneaking down the waist of his pants, his belt already unbuckled._

_Okay, that is fucking it!_

_With a grunt, I grabbed the guy by the collar and started dragging him out. I was being rougher than usual, but I didn't give a shit about hurting the prick._

"_That's enough," I spat, throwing him outside._

_He groaned into the wet cement—it had been raining—and started to complain._

"_I'm sorry!" he whined._

"_I didn't mean to." He offered with a hopeful smile._

_My eye twitched._

_Exactly the words to come from Phil's mouth. 'He didn't mean to'. _

_My nostrils flared and I took in a deep breath, stalking forward to the pathetic fucker on the ground; my fist connecting with his jaw._

"_Hey!" Felix noticed my overzealous behaviour. _

_It wasn't policy to continue bashing the shit out of patrons once they were outside of the club. Not that it was really customary to hit them inside, either._

_I brought my fist back, bashing the fucker's face in. Blood spurted down his nose, coating his mouth and chin. He wailed, defenceless, drunk._

_Dem and Felix came up behind me, prising me off the guy before I could do any real damage._

"_Don't fucking come back!" I growled as Dem fought to keep me at bay while Felix helped the guy to his feet and hailed him a cab._

_Dem took me inside, throwing me an incredulous, pointed glare._

"_What the fuck did you think you were doing?" he demanded, making me take a seat at the bar._

_I sighed._

_He wouldn't understand._

_Bella came rushing up to us then; she must have finished her routine already. How long had I been bloodying that guy up out there?_

_I almost growled in frustration at her. She was still in full costume—among customers._

_She looked concerned and incredulous; wearing an almost identical expression to Dem._

Today she requested that we take a walk to talk about it.

I hadn't been in a very talkative mood the night before; I was grumpy and felt that if we tried to talk, I would end up getting angry with her.

I didn't want that.

So, it was either now or never, and knowing Bella, she wouldn't just leave it alone.

She was determined, and she would want an explanation.

In truth, I wanted her out of Blood Moon permanently. I never wanted her to work there again. I didn't want to share her with someone else, let alone the entire male population of Chicago that were donning hard-ons for of her. I wanted her for myself and myself only. But what would she think if I asked?

Would she think I was trying to control her? It would definitely look that way. But that was the last thing I wanted to do, really. I had no intention of dictating her life; she was free to do what she wanted. That doesn't mean I liked everything she chose to do.

Especially her job.

Bella was courageous, lovable, intelligent—so what the hell was she still doing at Blood Moon? She was more than capable of finding a career, one that wouldn't drive me fucking insane.

She could be a real dancer. She had the gift; an intense passion for what she loved, she loved irrevocably. What was stopping her?

She had grown comfortable. And I assumed she was afraid. Not in the general meaning of the word. She was worried. Worried about taking a chance; I knew she was afraid of failure and all that nonsense. Afraid that if she put herself out in the open, the wolves would descend, figuratively.

But in what world could she fail? Especially when she had what it took?

I would definitely have to ask her to consider leaving the club.

She didn't need that place anymore.

She had evolved.

~~~___~~~

It was dark.

The moon ascending, opposite the setting sun.

I shuddered slightly, watching Bella intently as she held the gun with both hands before James.

To hear what was going on in her head; such turmoil and fear of the unknown. I was terrified of the image before me; with Bella, a gun in her trembling grasp.

My own hands were shaking with tremors. I decided it was probably best if I took the gun from her; I hated that she was in this position.

I needed to get to her.

If James tried making a move, a lunge, a fucking twitch, I would drill him through the fucking forehead. But with Bella having the gun—she would react.

If she did, she would kill him.

I didn't know what to think, or feel.

Happiness that he would be rid from our lives? So Bella could be safe?

Or should I feel sickened?

Sickened at the thought of Bella having that responsibility of taking a life. I had killed people before; it was horrible. Even if they were trying to kill you; it was never pleasant.

I never took solace in a kill, no matter how justified.

I didn't want Bella to go though that trauma, ever.

I'd die for her; do anything for her if it meant she wouldn't have to do the job herself.

"Bella," I whispered, but she didn't hear me.

She was staring intently at an unmoved James. I held my hands up, letting her know I was of no threat—she could be in shock and lash out by accident.

I breathed deeply, glad that the situation was semi-controlled by this point.

James lost.

And soon, we wouldn't have to feel the burden of his wrath any longer.

I took another lithe step whilst Bella still stared, eyes wide, hands still shaking. Her finger hovered over the trigger, ready. Did she even know how to fire a weapon? I doubted it.

I needed to take over.

I took a deep, steadying breath.

James shifted slightly and Bella twitched in response.

"Don't move!" she ordered, her voice high and uncontrolled.

She was distressed beyond anything. I could see the tears pooling in her eyes; anger, fear, frustration.

I opened my mouth to speak her name once more when the gun went off. I jumped, startled, glancing to Bella's hands...her finger...

...her finger...was still hovering over the trigger.

My eyes moved, agonisingly slow to her face.

Pale.

Still.

Her eyes moved to meet mine; a mixture of fear and defeat. She blinked before her body crumpled. I red-headed woman stood at the porch of the cabin—a gun in her hand.

It was all so surreal. A second had passed after the gun had fired.

I felt like I was stuck—my body lethargic and unable to move with the shock.

I stumbled forward then, wrenching the gun from Bella's limp hand before turning it on the bitch. She was distracted; upset. She just shot someone.

I got her in one go.

She fell to the wooden stairs of the porch, blood running macabre ribbons down her neck.

James yelled behind me; furious.

But I had the gun.

He ran to me.

I hadn't the time to turn all the way round to finish him off before he kicked my hand, sending the gun flying—out towards the ebbing forest.

Unbridled fury swept through my conscious.

As if the gates of hell had been opened, unleashed within; my darkest emotions spread like poison through my veins; acid.

He wanted me angry?

He got it, and then some.

I didn't say anything as he approached, his fists clenched. My eyes snapped towards his; pools of hate, of rage. But nothing in comparison to my own, it seemed.

That dead woman was just a pawn to him.

He was on me; thrashing my body down to the uneven gravel, dotted with _her_ blood.

In retrospect, I should have known the outcome of coming here, of hopping in that _fucking_ car to start with. I knew, solidly, how unhinged James was. I knew he wouldn't hesitate in hurting us.

I had the knowledge.

And yet I followed him anyway, and done the worst possible thing on top of that.

I took Bella with me.

I barely felt his fist connect with my eye socket, my cheek and my jaw. I could feel the sting, a mere annoyance compared to the searing inside my chest. Fire, acid—_inferno._

Our limbs stirred the gravel, clouds of light dust swirled around us like a bubble; it coated our clothes, our skin.

I grunted in exhaustion as I tried shoving him off. Another shot ricocheted against the jeep. We stiffened simultaneously before James was hit, he rolled off of me effortlessly, cowering.

He clutched at the flesh protruding from his shoulder, blood poured liberally onto the ground. He groaned. I crawled to Bella—not noticing the extent of her injuries.

She was sitting up, slightly. She dropped the gun, satisfied for the moment that James was partially incapacitated. She was breathing in short, shallow pants—her face ashen, covered with a light sheen of sweat. I placed an arm behind her back so she could conserve her strength.

She was struggling to stay conscious.

"Ed-Ed-Edwa—" she stuttered, her lip trembling.

She couldn't even say my name.

"Shh..." I soothed, although I doubt my voice sounded reassuring.

I was shaking, too, but not as bad as Bella. I skimmed my hand over her torso...

She gripped my hand, her grasp was weak, no physical strength left. She guided me to where she hurt most. I couldn't see in the fading light and her jacket was black. The blood was indistinguishable against the dark leather.

A wound, pulsing with fresh, warm blood was situated on her left side, near her ribs. She wailed and choked out strangled sobs when I pressed my hand firmly to it. I had to keep the pressure on it. I leaned back slightly to stare at her face. In doing so, I was faced with a question.

_What have I done?_

It was agonising, causing her pain; but I had to, to save her.

I had this fucked up notion in my head that I was brought to Bella to help her. All I had done so far was break her.

Bella was meant to move forward; to prosper, not to die, bloody and bruised at the hands of a psychopath.

Different shades of pain flooded through my system. But it was all pain for Bella. I should never have intruded in on her life. What had it done in the end?

I wished I could trade places with her.

"It should have been me," I muttered, my voice shaking.

She was fighting to keep her eyes open and focussed. I gathered her up in my arms, she muffled her cries into my jacket, it hurt her when she was moved. The temperature was also dropping fast. Our breath puffed out in hot clouds against the cold air.

I briskly walked to the Jeep and placed her inside. I closed the door gently, not wanting to jostle her in any way. I wouldn't want her to listen to what I was going to do, either.

I hoped she wouldn't think little of me after this. I turned on my heel then stopped short. James no longer rolled over on the ground in agony, clutching his bullet wound.

He was gone.

"Fuck!" I growled; my emotions were a fucking roller coaster.

I stumbled over to the driver's side. The keys weren't in the ignition. Luckily I was well adept in hot-wiring a fucking car.

The engine rumbled, Bella stirred restlessly, her brow furrowing.

She sighed, her eyelids fluttering.

"Bella, baby, talk to me." I begged, moving with frantic hands to get the car going.

"Bella!" I demanded, my voice rising.

"Answer me!"

Her words were mumbled, slurred.

"I'll be fine, Edward."

I reversed, spinning around back the way we came. Hopefully I would be able to find our way out—who knows how far away we were from a fucking hospital.

I wouldn't leave Bella's side.

But my fury would not dissipate; he got away.

So, what happens next? Would he strike again? More ruthlessly?

We hadn't even known what he had planned for us. This had been a pre-emptive incidental attack. I hoped that next time, I was ready.

Next time; I would slaughter him.

He didn't fucking know pain.

The forest thinned quite rapidly, leaving the city visible in the distance. I barrelled down the highway, begging the entire time. I begged to whatever god or goddess that was out there, not to take my stone queen away.


	19. Mercury Rising

Well, hello there strangers. Did you miss me? I hope you all had a fuck-tastic Christmas and so forth. Can't wait till the New Year, right? Me either. 2009 is getting old. Time to break out of the noughties I say. So, this chapter is quite a biggin'. At first I was struggling to get the word count up but then it just ran out of me like diarrhea. (sorry for the mental image)

Haha, that just made you think about diarrhea, didn't it? LOL.

Oh, uh, you need to check out the mentalward stories. I can't be bothered to find the link but, go to my fav authors list and find DurtyNelly. She has the link on her profile. VOTE VOTE VOTE, guys.

I need your votes. I hope it's still going on. I'm hopeless with timelines. Anyway, if voting hasn't started yet, this is a reminder. And if voting is already closed, then...thanks anyways. Haha. There was something else, too..Hmm...I usually have goss to share with you guys..AH!

STORY RECS:

Volition- Kiltward/Rebelward (you got some hot bathroom sexin' in there. AWESOME.

Bonne Foi- Vampward and humanella. Great story.

AND, THE FUCKAWESOMEST FIC I FOUND THIS WEEK:

The Naked Guy Upstairs by AngryBadgerGirl

CHECK. THEM. OUT. especially that last one. cause it blew my mind. Anyways; enjoy and dont hesitate to rec fics to mwah. These stories are on my favs.

Anywho, without further procrastination, here is the next installment of your beloved Guardward and Bitchella. ;)

* * *

_hide and seek  
trains and sewing machines (oh, you won't catch me around here)  
blood and tears (hearts)  
they were here first_

_Mmmm whatcha say,  
Mmm that you only meant well?  
well of course you did  
Mmmm whatcha say,  
Mmmm that it's all for the best?  
of course it is  
Mmmm whatcha say?  
Mmmm that it's just what we need  
you decided this  
whatcha say?  
Mmmm what did she say?_

_ransom notes keep falling out your mouth  
mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs  
speak no feeling no I don't believe you  
you don't care a bit,  
you don't care a bit_

_Hide and Seek- Imogen Heap  
_

BPOV

I remembered distantly, a time prior to this when I was admitted to hospital.

It was in the Summer, one I spent with Charlie when life was relatively good and increasingly bearable—pleasant. During this time, we usually went out on regular hiking trips up the Olympic range. The weather was warm and conducive enough to camping, so we made it sort of a tradition.

Who would have thought I would enjoy something so...out-doors-y. Well, maybe it was the fact that I bonded so well with Charlie. He had character, and a warm soul that leaked with charisma and soft-heartedness. He was the perfect parent; my best friend.

Getting lost in the past was not something I often did, however. I tried every day to block out certain memories; they only reminded me of everything I had lost. So, to conserve my sanity, I actively ignored them and focussed on the present time. Nothing better, right?

So, it was out hiking that I hurt myself, as one would expect. I had never been in so much fucking physical pain in all my life. Of course, back then it was a rarity that I ever cursed, so it came as a shock to father dearest when I yelped out a loud 'fuck!' after sliding down a slippery, rock dotted incline and ended up tripping and breaking my ankle in a ditch.

Breaking bones was horrendous; I was in a cast for a while after that. But besides that, hospitals were nearly unfamiliar to me. That's why I couldn't figure out for the fucking life of me where the hell I was.

The lights over head were bleary and bright, like jabbing searing hot pokers into my eyes and skull. I felt the throbbing in my head like a battering ram and the sharp pain in my side where I knew I had been shot.

But other than those fine details, I couldn't have told you anything else.

The day was lost on me; the date, too. I couldn't remember what had happened or where; I had no idea where Edward was and if he was okay. That fact alone out-weighed the rest.

Losing stock of my whereabouts and the day of the week was nothing compared to not knowing about Edward.

Panicked, I tried to voice my concerns. The lights spun around sickeningly. My ears felt like they had been stuffed with cotton and I felt something elastic wrapped around my head.

I fumbled with the plastic, realising that it was an oxygen mask. There were conversations going on in my head; voices unrecognisable.

What was going on?

Was I dying?

And where was Edward?!

He wouldn't just leave me here, would he?

My head was moving from side to side as I was rolled along on what I assumed was a gurney. I groaned; sweat was beading on my forehead, trickling down my face.

I opened my mouth but my whispered words were muffled by the mask.

I tried frantically to tear it off; I needed to ask about Edward.

"Ed-Edward." I mumbled, my words not even sounding like my own.

There were more voices, some hushed, some louder and more alarmed.

I stopped moving; the bed stopped moving. That's when I felt the hands prodding me, poking me; it hurt and I whimpered.

My whole body felt tender.

I fucking needed someone to tell me what the hell was going on!

But my delirious, disoriented state prevented me from talking without it sounding slurred and unintelligible.

Hands shifted underneath me.

"One, two, three." Someone said, their voice the most clear so far through the mess that was my brain.

They lifted me and I was scared for a moment before they placed me back on something solid and continued their prodding. A small, needle prick in my arm indicated an IV drip.

Morphine. I hoped.

Something to take the throb away.

As it gradually leaked into my system, I felt the pain recede quite rapidly, leaving room for only echoed voices and eerie beeping noises.

But, unveiled by the miracle that is morphine, was the anxiety I still held to finding my Edward.

~~~___~~~

I was in a square room, the lights were off and I could hear nothing but a heart monitor beeping right next to my head.

I wanted so badly to hurl it across the fucking room and out the window; but I assumed I would have to pay for it if I did and, well, I guess it would be rude, to do so as well.

Deciding against public vandalism, I rubbed at my eyes.

I frowned at the scratchy blankets covering my torso. I was puzzled by the wrist band I wore and the plastic tube coming from the crease of my arm.

Okay, so I was in hospital, right?

Now, what the fuck happened?

I was sure I had been walking down the street with Edward...and then...the details grew suddenly hazy, as if there was a block in my mind, preventing me from seeing past that point in my immediate memory.

At least I hoped it was immediate memory.

How long had I been in here?

I rolled quite ungracefully to my side and was met with a piercing pain shooting through my abdomen. Of course I remembered the pain.

It must have acted as a trigger, because flashes of things came back to me.

Small snippets which, by themselves held no meaning.

I breathed slowly, in and out. That seemed like the safest thing to do at this point. My heart monitor had picked up in pace slightly so I tried to calm myself down—relaxing. I couldn't help my hands from trembling, though. I was in shock, really. I was in a place I didn't know and had never been to before. I was in an unfamiliar bed with no-one here with me—

A light snoring sound erupted from a dark arm chair beside my bed. My head snapped up reflexively. Someone was slouched in an arm chair, covered in a hospital blanket.

"Edward!" I whimpered, losing my composure within seconds.

The dark figure moved, their arms stretching above their head like a cat; the thick threaded blanket dropping from their shoulders and into their lap.

I was breathing hard, anticipating. But on closer inspection, I realised the person was not Edward—but Esme.

I sighed; but continued on my little tear tirade. Not that I wasn't grateful Esme was here; but where was Edward? I was in hospital for Christ's sake! Did he not know I was here?

But then that couldn't be right, because I distinctly remembered being with him. Even through the parts where my recollection was dismal, I knew he was with me.

So he should be here. Why wasn't he? But more importantly: Where was he?

"Esme?" I said, my words cutting through the silence in the room.

I could faintly hear people outside the room, a crack of light under the door meant there were still people out there; shadows passed periodically.

Before I completely lost it and started tearing the foam out of the mattress with my teeth; I asked Esme what was eating away at my brain.

"What the fuck happened to me?" I demanded, my voice not as strong as I wanted it to be.

She sighed, long and heavy before shuffling around a bit to find a lamp on the nightstand next to my heart monitor. It flickered on and I had to squint as my eyes adjusted.

I groaned.

I heard the chair scraping harshly across the floor as Esme dragged it closer to the bed, sitting back down again before taking my hand. She smiled sadly at me and for some reason her face looked drawn; as if she had seen too much grief, more than she was mentally capable of handling.

I let my head rest back on the lumpy pillow beneath me, shifting my gaze to watch her; impatiently awaiting the news I needed.

"How are you feeling, honey?" she murmured into the darkness.

Her voice was soft and buttery yet concealed a nervous edge. I didn't miss the part where she was avoiding my question.

"Where's Edward?" I pressed her further.

Did she not understand English?

"Bella, sweetie, you need to rest—"

"Bull shit!" I protested angrily, shifting slightly so I was facing her straight on.

I dropped her hand and tried staring her directly into the eyes. I'd be able to tell if she was lying or not—and this stance proved to be quite intimidating...sometimes...

"I've been resting for god knows how long. I need you to tell me what's going on, Esme. Before I have an aneurism." I huffed at the last word, out of breath.

She bit her pouted, pink bottom lip.

Taking a deep breath as if she expected this to be a torturous experience; Esme collected herself and swallowed loudly before meeting my gaze with an impenetrable one of her own.

"What do you remember?" she asked quietly.

I sighed, frustrated; rubbing the heels of my palms over my sore eyes. I glowered over at Esme; why was she being so evasive?

If something had happened...

"I-I remember taking a walk with Edward...and...and then..." I shook my head.

It felt like trying to knock down a solid cement wall with your bare hands. There was a road block in my mind and I needed to find a trigger to get it all back. I needed a battering ram to demolish this wall that kept me from the memories my brain fought to keep hidden.

"That was last night, honey." She whispered, an apologetic smile on her lips.

I breathed out a long breath; shocked.

I'd missed a complete day? Well, then...if so, why wasn't Edward at least here with me? Did he just not care? I shook my head to clear it; of course the thought was ludicrous. Edward wasn't going to lose interest if I'd been hurt; it's not like it was a switch that could be turned off or dimmed like a light bulb.

Our feelings were unswerving, unable to be dampened or muted with an accident such as this.

"Esme, just fucking spit it out. Tell me what happened." I demanded, growing quickly tired with her attempt to keep me in the dark.

"I'm going to find out sooner or later anyway so stop thinking you can bury the burden from me because you think it's too much for me to handle." I said, watching her the entire time.

"Just tell me." I was practically begging now.

"You were shot." She uttered bluntly.

I suppose she got straight to the point. My eyebrows rose to my hairline and a squeak sounded in my throat. With a horrified scoff, I hurriedly pushed the thick threaded blanket down my torso so it sat at my hips. I pulled the spotted hospital gown up my legs and over my ribcage, revealing the patch of gauze over my left side. A faint crimson stain indicated that's where I was hit. That's where the slight twinge of pain was coming from.

Looking back up to Esme for conformation; she nodded without hesitating.

"By who?" the words came out strangled with shock.

Shot?

Although I think I knew the answer before the name fell acidly from her lips.

"Apparently you followed James to his cabin where you got shot." She explained, hazing over the details and the extent to everything that happened at that cabin.

"How did you find out?" I asked, perplexed and seeking any link to the whereabouts of him.

I felt like I was asking her to figure out a difficult algebra equation; the waiting and the constant demanding of information without getting any was exasperating.

I gently slid the gown back over the wound and pulled my blankets securely over my waist. I arched an expectant brow at my somewhat surrogate mother.

"Edward." She stated, emotionless.

I sighed out in relief...

But why did she still look that way? As if she was waiting for a rebuff; an explosion of great proportion.

"And where is he?" I gulped down the increasingly painful dry lump in my throat.

Maintaining a certain level of composure was difficult, especially since I was so on edge, waiting for any type of scenario to unfold before my eyes.

She tucked her hair behind her ear.

"I...honestly don't know, Bella." She answered me truthfully, shaking her head lightly and offering me her warm hand again.

I refused it as I felt ill in the stomach; sharp pangs of unease made me uncomfortable, almost to the point of pure nausea.

"Is he...is he alright?" I breathed, taking in all the oxygen I could before I passed out.

I couldn't keep my hands from shaking with each second ticking by when she didn't answer me. Time passing was time wasted.

"Esme!" I shouted.

She jumped, hastily mumbling a reply.

"As far as I know." She responded, her tone a little higher to show her surprise at my outburst.

"Have you spoken to him? Why isn't he here?"

I may have been sounding incredibly rude but I would worry about that later. She wasn't being helpful enough, I deduced. I shook my head at her, closing my eyes for a moment and blinking hard before I began to hastily detach all the wires and tubes connecting me to the surrounding machines.

"Bella," Esme scolded, standing up to stop me.

"I need to find him!" I objected as she grabbed my shoulders and tried pinning my arms to the bed.

"Hello, how are we feeling?" A strange voice piped in on the commotion, briskly walking into the room with a clipboard at the ready, held tentatively in her grasp.

"Hope I'm not intruding, but I need to check your wounds, Isabella." The doctor informed me.

Doctor...Brandon? I think I remembered her; flashes of her face flowing through my head. It was a trigger. I looked her up and down and digressed she looked compassionate enough. Although I doubted she would discharge me even taking into account how fucking desperate I was to escape and start a mother fucking search party.

"I'm Alice." She smiled warmly, tucking her short black bob behind her ear before pulling a pen out of her white coat pocket.

She looked around her mid to late twenties. Just out of med-school perhaps? But that wasn't really important. I didn't care if she was a multi-qualified surgeon or if she didn't know shit from clay. I needed to get out of here.

"Excuse me," I said, gaining her attention.

She walked up to my bed and looked down at me with soft eyes; a perfect bedside manner.

"Are you feeling uncomfortable, Isabella? Any pain?" she enquired, remaining business-like and professional yet emanating a concerned facade.

I shook my head quickly, even though it was starting to get on my nerves.

"No, that's not—"

"I think you need to sedate her again, Dr. Brandon. She's upset and she's trying to get out of bed." Esme told her.

I whipped my head around to scowl at her. Traitor.

"No, Doctor, I need to ask you something. How did I get here?" I asked, panicked.

I was this close to grabbing her by the shirt and pulling her face to my level as if I could threaten her into telling me what I wanted to know.

She frowned and glanced at Esme before sitting on the edge of the cot.

"You were brought in by a young man, bronze hair, about six feet, four..." she said, trailing off as she watched me closely.

"I need to know if he's here. Did you treat him? Was he hurt as well?" I demanded, my voice edging on hysteria with my frantically asked questions.

"Isabella, you need to keep calm." She told me, glancing worriedly at my heart monitor that had accelerated considerably.

"Not until you answer me!"

"No, he was not treated. And, he's around here somewhere. I saw him just a moment ago." She replied.

"Oh, god." I sighed, tears had welled and fell; but not they were unnecessary.

"Okay." I breathed, relieved.

As I sat there staring at the ceiling; Dr. Brandon continued to take my blood pressure and check the dressings on my wound before topping up my dosage of painkillers.

"I don't want to go back to sleep." I disputed weakly as she injected the clear liquid into the IV.

"Shh. Get your rest, Isabella. The police will want to speak with you later." She murmured, patting my arm tenderly before grabbing my chart and writing on it before placing it back at the foot of my cot and walking out the door, hands in pockets.

Drowsily, I turned my heavy head to Esme.

"Find him." I murmured before I was taken under.

EPOV

I stormed into my apartment, grabbing the first thing I saw and throwing it harshly into the drywall.

"Fuck!" I roared at nothing in particular.

I needed something to yell at.

Pieces of plaster crumbled to the floor of my living room; the chair I had thrown tumbled off to the side, creating black scuff marks all over the floor.

I couldn't control my temper. It was like mercury rising; the temperature gauge exploding out of the top of my fuckin' head. I weaved around my sofas and picked up the same wooden chair I had removed a chunk of wall with. I grasped the legs and wrenched it up to the ceiling before bringing it down; square with the glass coffee table that sat in front of the T.V. It shattered haphazardly over the small rug it sat atop; some sprinkled over me and I was sure there were scattered shards that punctured my knuckles. My face was hot and I could feel the distant yet familiar feeling of stinging in my eyes.

My emotions heightened, higher than a fucking mountain summit; I threw the chair back down, pacing the room. My boots crunched over the glass, scratching the wooden floors. I wheeled up to the wall with the T.V mounted on it, letting my hand whip back before punching through the hard surface. The plaster moulded around my fist; I welcomed the pain. I gingerly pulled my now-limp hand from the wall, surveying the damage around me. My furniture was ruined. But it was just minor, inconsequential. I didn't care if I had no material belongings. If only I had Bella.

Constantly.

Resorting to desperation; I left again, even though I had come here to get away from the hospital. After I had spoken short, one-word-sentenced answers to the cops, I had told Esme the minute she arrived that I couldn't stay while they worked on Bella.

I couldn't.

Maybe it was weak and cowardice, but I refused to watch Bella die. Especially when I was helpless to stopping it. As anyone is when they're in a hospital. Everything is taken out of your hands, your control is handed over to the educated people. I handed Bella over to them.

Maybe destroying my living room gave me some sense of accomplishment. I could control at least something; but it mostly let me relish in the act of destruction. Of relinquishing my fury. If I couldn't release all that pent up energy and rage onto my sole target—James—then destroying myself was the next best thing. Destroying what I had because it was all nothing!

I was nothing.

Not without her.

James had almost achieved what he set out to. He'd almost taken her away from me. And what if he had? What then? Would I sit here and mourn like a good little boy? Or, would I go after the fucker and make sure he suffered the pain inflicted on Bella and I.

He would beg me for death far before I granted it. I'd make him rue the day he ever set foot into Blood Moon; regret everything in his entire, pitiful fucking life from the day he was fucking born. I rehearsed scenarios in my head where I had him cornered. Bare hands and just my will power and anger to drive my strength; I would annihilate him.

I could feel the relentless surges of anger rising to an all time high inside me. Like blazing trails of fire, or splashes of acid searing through me; the rage almost had me incapacitated. I drove recklessly through town, earning a constant buzz of curses and middle fingers as I cut people off to get through the congested traffic.

I strode inside the intensive care ward; not sure where to start. Once spotting Esme outside a private room, I paused in my movements and became immobile. Slowly, I backed away, collapsing into a seat down in the cafeteria. I was crippled with fear of seeing Bella—hurt. I internally chastised myself for being a pussy, not the man I had thought I was—the one that Bella deserved.

I held my face in my hands, rubbing them back and forth over my face and through my hair. I glanced at the people around me, sitting in rounded tables with coffees sat, untouched in front of them. All waiting for news. Like me.

Few talked; they only wallowed. Like me.

Fear gripped us all. Fear for wives, husbands, sons or daughters.

Lovers.

I watched one man in particular. He had to be roughly seventy years of age. He was sitting at one of the many tables; a Styrofoam cup gripped tightly in his right hand. He stared at the shiny metal surface of the table, unmoving.

He hugged his jacket closer around his body, shivering slightly. A man approached him then; a doctor.

He was a male, thirty something with thick spectacles. He took a seat beside the man, grasping his wrinkled hand with both of his. I watched their exchange from afar. However, I could gather the gist of their conversation. Sorrow for the strange man and the obvious loss he had just received; it seared my heart. I gulped and averted my gaze. The discussion was too painful to watch, even from a stranger's perspective.

I felt for the man who was now grieving the loss of someone special; his hand cupped his mouth and his eyes watered. I avoided watching him anymore.

Esme blessed me with her presence again then, taking in my dishevelled appearance as though only just noticing it for the first time tonight.

I hadn't showered or eaten since it happened.

I couldn't.

My head perked up in Esme's direction. She wore a solemn expression. My stomach dropped and my heart quit beating for an immeasurable moment. My body—crippled with fear, refused to move. I choked on the words I wanted to say.

Is Bella alright?

Has something happened?

Is she...is she...?

I couldn't even complete the last question in my thoughts. The enormity of which would be too much to shoulder in one go. Unacceptable.

"Go to her." She ordered simply, her voice thick with authority.

"She's awake?" I demanded, standing up already and walking off down the corridor.

Hiding away like this, I'd sunk as low as I could get.

Drowning my sorrows in hard liquor after coming back from Iraq was nothing in comparison. At least no-one was counting on me then. No-one was waiting for me to be there for them.

But Bella was waiting for me now.

I skidded to a halt outside her room, taking in her slack form, her face soft and emotionless—unconscious.

Rocking back and forth on the arm chair by her side, I propped my chin on my hands and waited impatiently to hear the lilt of her voice again.

~~~___~~~

I had fallen to sleep easily in her presence.

It was so comforting and secure; even when I shouldn't be the one in need of those things right now. Sometime through the night, Esme had left; leaving a blanket over my legs that were propped up on the edge of Bella's bed as I slept.

"You left," Bella's hoarse voice broke through the layer of sleep.

I woke up with a start, eyes wide and suddenly alert as I stared at her, sitting upright in her bed.

"I—" I stuttered, unable to make sense of her words.

"Where were you?" she questioned, her voice betraying every drop of hurt she felt.

I should just cram a bullet into my brain now—I fucking deserved it.

I let my head fall at her clipped tone. She was upset. And she was right.

I had left her alone.

"Bella. I'm sorry," I whispered, standing up.

She watched me with her lips clamped shut and her eyes wide. Her brow was furrowed; her expression wounded.

She licked her lips and shook her head, averting her gaze then to the floor. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Why did you leave me alone, Edward?" she asked, looking back up at me, her eyes glistening with freshly unshed tears.

The sight alone had me wanting to put myself through unimaginable physical pain.

"I..." I decided just to admit why.

"I was scared." I mumbled out apologetically, looking down at the floor then staring her straight in the eyes to gauge her reaction.

She breathed out heavily.

"So why are you here now?" she was stoic now, attempting indifference.

"For the same reason." I explained.

"I didn't want to watch you die—I was terrified that that's what was going to happen..."

"You were going to let me die by myself?" her voice rose and octave and pink stained her cheeks.

"I realised that; so I came back. And..." I crumbled, falling to my knees at the head of the cot and gripping her forearm tightly.

"Like a coward, I ran. Yes. I admit it. But I came back. I came back because even though it would cause me unimaginable pain to watch you like this; I knew you'd want me here. And if you didn't make it, I wanted to be here so I..." I trailed off, wondering if she'd want to know or not.

She waited.

"So you could what?" she pressed, her voice more rattly and broken than before.

A fresh wave of guilt overcame me.

"So I could carry out the most cowardly act of all." I muttered darkly.

She shifted so she could lean forward, wincing subtly and batting my hand away when I tried to stop her. Bella leaned her face close to mine.

"What are you talking about?" her expression looked fierce but her words did not mirror her features.

She whispered the words, a horrified tinge to her question.

I watched her face as it grew more desperate, pained.

"I wasn't going to live without you." I told her.

She flinched.

"But before that, of course, I'd need to find someone else first and...take care of them...before I took care of myself,"

Bella leaned back in her bed, breathing hard.

"You were going to kill yourself." She stated flatly, not a question.

I answered by not saying anything at all; not denying the notion.

She nodded, breathing out heavily through her nose before grabbing the collar of my jacket and hauling me close to her face.

For a second I thought she was going to threaten me, given the intimidating look in her eyes. But before I could ask, she kissed me.

How I missed the sensation.

It had been too long since I felt it.

The distress didn't seem to dissipate, though. She fisted her right hand into my hair as I leaned as far over as I could so I wouldn't end up leaning on her.

Her lips closed around mine; I breathed her in, relishing in her scent, her taste.

She still smelled like she always did.

She wasn't tainted with cheap perfume; she was her own and it only made me want her more.

Gasping for air, she reclaimed my lips after taking a hasty breath. Sensations overwhelmed me. I had thought I would lose this. So I lavished in every second. I cupped her face with my hand as our lips parted, taking each other's between them.

I ran the tip of my tongue over her bottom pout.

"I will never take this for granted," I murmured against her mouth.

She sighed into mine, tugging my face impossibly closer with her vice-grip on my hair. I obliged, placing my other hand on the other side of her face. With a soft groan, she slid her tongue into my awaiting mouth. I reciprocated quickly, earning another throaty moan from Bella.

My head clouded with her. And it was easy to forget where we were and what had happened.

Just for the moment we held each other.

I heard her heart monitor spike. I glanced, concerned at the little machine connected to her body. She pulled my face back, though and continued to slid her tongue in and out of mine. So tasty, so warm...

I could feel the pressure building in my cock, the crotch of my pants becoming increasingly tight. I groaned a little and pulled back, signalling to her that it was getting too much to handle. But she didn't let me go that quick. Her warm, red lips enveloped mine again...and a second time; her body reacting the same way mine did. She arched her back and tried tugging at my waist to get me to lie down on top of her.

I hissed when her hand scoped down my torso and grazed over the fabric concealing my now painful boner.

She always brought out the best in me.

"Bella," I hissed/whispered.

"We can't...not here," I reasoned, indicating how we could not have 'fun' in a hospital room when there were people likely to interrupt—and it wasn't exactly demure...

But god did I want to.

I wanted her warm, soft frame pressed against mine. I wanted my name to fall in ecstasy from her lips. I craved her touch, more than just heated kisses. I wanted all of her...right. Now.

But she was still hurt; I could only make it worse by giving into my own selfish needs.

Instead of disputing me, she caved tiredly, scooting over to one side of the cot and offering me the other side.

Touched and relieved that she didn't hate me; I took her offer.

As I sat on the edge of the bed to swing my legs over, she spoke.

"Edward?" she murmured.

"Hmm?" I mumbled, turning to look over my shoulder at her.

She was sitting up and before I could venture further as to why she was looking at me so dangerously, she brought her hand back and slapped me hard across the face.

Now, I knew Bella could pack a might fucking punch if she wanted to. But, damn! She was harsh when she was scorned.

But I took it; knowing it was what I deserved.

"Never." She said, holding her finger up to me like a scolding parent.

Her voice shook but it was hard and firm.

"Ever think about doing that again." She warned before lying back down and facing her back to me.

I brought my legs up and rolled over to spoon her.

"Okay." I whispered into her ear, kissing the hollow under her ear lobe.

She shivered slightly but didn't say anything. I bit my lip against the obvious problem in my jeans. I noticed then, too, that I was still dirty. I was dusty and I had her dried blood spotted over my jacket and t-shirt. I studiously ignored it and focussed intently on Bella.

Her steady breaths, the quick, humming bird thrum of her heart beat and how it echoed through the heart monitor. Burying my face in her neck, I let my hand wander down her flat stomach, trailing a line over the thin cotton of her hospital gown until I encountered the edge of the thick blanket over her legs.

I hovered there for a moment before her hand found mine, encouraging me to go further south. I kissed her neck and she hummed in content as I let her guide me to where she wanted me most.

"I've missed you." She mumbled as I let my fingers travel dutifully, gently, down her thigh.

"You have no idea how much I missed you."

I shook my head and swallowed back the gigantic lump in my throat. So much torment and agony had overcome me in mere hours. It was so...surreal.

But now she was fine. I was free to tell her how I felt.

But, so as not to get her upset, I settled for agreeing with her.

"Me, too." I breathed into her ear, earning another yearning shiver.

"So much..."

I grasped the hem of the gown and hiked it up to her hips but keeping the blanket concealing our activities.

I found nothing but her soft flesh, prickling under my touch. It almost made me smug; but the smugness was seasoned with guilt and doubt about how I did not deserve such a reaction from Bella.

Yet, deserved or not; she had given herself to me.

I'd be the stupidest man alive to run away from Bella.

I let my fingers find their way to her crotch, stroking up and down her inner thigh as she gasped and muffled moans into the pillow. She lifted her leg slightly to allow me access.

With a soft hiss, I discovered how wet she was for me. Without much hesitation, I let my hand glide over her heat then ran my index finger up her slit, gathering her arousal.

"Mmm...fuck," she whispered, her chest heaving a little with anticipation.

She let her own hand travel up to her breasts.

I bit my lip as I watched her play with herself. If I thought I was in need of relief before...

I slowly began making small circles over her moistened clit, rubbing her gently before applying more pressure.

Her hips bucked into my hand before I granted her my fingers. She was so hot and wet inside.

I savoured the feeling of her clenching around my fingers, coating my fingers with her juices as she peaked.

I rubbed her for a while until she came again, my fingers getting drenched in the process. She gripped my forearm for the third time, her body tightening against mine; my dick throbbed agonisingly as her ass pressed into it. Her hand covered mine and helped me with my ministrations, gaining another grunt from her clenched teeth. Such a beautiful sound to my ears.

Like I was a starved man; I craved giving her pleasure and couldn't stop until she ordered me.

She whimpered softly as she came, her pussy clenching tightly around my two fingers as my thumb rubbed hard against her nub.

"Enough," she panted.

I kissed her neck and pulled her gown back over her exposed thighs. I let her watch me suck my fingers of her cum, licking it all up before snaking my arm back around her waist and kissing the corner of her mouth.

"You can rest now, and think about whatever you want to think about. I'm not going anywhere." I vowed.

I let my eyes fall closed as I plotted a hasty plan of demise for the cause of Bella's hurt. Revenge didn't seem like the right label.

It didn't sound malevolent enough; not for what I had planned. In regardless, his end was soon and the thought helped me fall into unconsciousness.

I slept beside her, slightly uncomfortably given my...situation...but beside her nevertheless.

The world seemed less insane for a moment.


	20. Forgiveness

**OMG! Birobird is back? Holy crap, she is!**

**I did it, you guys! I updated, how much do you love me?????**

**ALERT ALERT: guess what? I saw 'The Lovely Bones' the other day at the cinemas. If you haven't already, I advise you to GO AND SEE THAT SHIT.**

**A-M-A-Z-I-N-G**

**Anyone want to send me some love because they've missed me so much? I'd love to hear from you!!**

**FIC RECS:**

**The Naked Guy Upstairs updated, like 3 times while I was gone. **

**And so did Volition. Amazing,**

**Um...IF you have any fics to rec, please dont hesitate to PM me that shit.**

**Cause I love you and shit.**

**Till next time, baby ;D**

* * *

EPOV

Unsurprisingly, Bella refused to be coddled like a sick child after returning home from the hospital.

I tried--without success--to carry her to the apartment but she flat-out demanded I let her walk on her own two feet.

I thought that perhaps she was just being her usual stubborn self until I saw the moisture well in her eyes, glistening over her brown irises until she grew flustered and self-conscious, aggresively wiping them away and squaring her shoulders once the elevator stopped at her floor.

As if she was attempting to prove something to the zero number of people watching, she continued, quite drowsily down the corridor with me almost breathing down her neck.

She growled a little, threatening me to back off and let her do this.

I oliged but kept a hand ready and waiting incase she fell.

Bella swayed a bit and my hands fluttered toward her.

"Don't get all persnickety, newbie. Geesh!" she complained. I couldn't help but smirk.

_Persnickety._

"What are you, like, five?" I laughed, letting my hand fall to my side.

Her cheeks flushed but she bit down on her lip and her eyebrows furrowed.

She was either working out complicated long division, or thinking hard on a snappy come-back. Or, she was going to fart. I chuckled at her while I patiently waited for her to advance past apartment 201 and toward 203--her's was 211.

"I know you are, but what am I?" she quipped, grinning at herself.

"I'm awesome, is what _I_ am."

"I know you--" she paused, choking on the next words.

Her face scrunched up in what appeared to be distaste, as if she smelled something terrible. Maybe she _did _fart. I was about to conjure up my own backfire but before I could, she sneezed. It sounded forced.

"Holy shit!" she crowed, taking a slow deep breath.

She was still a little high off of the pain killers they gave her. But they did tell me she should be fine by now.

She shook her head a little and looked up at me, feigning embarrassment.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I'm allergic to self-righteous, smug, little bastards."

I 'hmphed' and rolled my eyes, acting hurt.

"And yet, here we are...do you need any anti-histamines?" I asked.

"No, they make me sleepy. Why by sleeping pills when I can just get you to fuck me?" she snorted.

We were broaching on 209 now.

My mouth popped open.

"How dare..." I breathed.

She grinned. I leant over slightly and pinched her ass, giving it a little spank. She yelped in the silence of the hallway, blushing a deep scarlet.

"You. Suck. Dick. Bitch." she whispered in a supposedly frightening manner.

I had to bite my fist.

All this lighthearted fun and joking was in stark contrast to the way I had spent the earlier portion of the week, racked with insurmountable guilt, sitting by Bella's bedside for the most part, wallowing in my own self-pity if I wasn't thinking of the foulest ways to end James' life. To think, mere centimetres had saved Bella's life. Had she been turned slightly in either direction, the bullet could have cost her life, spearing her liver or any other organ. Her rib took the brunt of the impact, thankfully, dodging death as quickly as it almost came.

I felt like I was gambling with her life, just by being in it.

Bella took one wobbly step at a time, one palm flat against her side--her battle wound--until she stopped outside her door with a triumphant sigh.

I realised then, what she must have thought.

She didn't want James, or anything that he did to her, to incapacitate her. Not physically or emotionally. Not like Phil had done in the past.

I smiled down at her, prouder than a soccer mom before unlocking the door with her set of keys.

The door swung open into darkness. I heard a thump. Not from the door.

I frowned and swung my head around to assess the damage Bella may have done by pushing herself too far--but she was standing ramrod straight, her eyes--or what I could see of them, dim in the lack of light, moon or otherwise--widened into alarm. Backing out and grabbing Bella's arm along with me, I pinned her against the wall outside her apartment, letting the door fall half-closed behind us.

"_Stay here!"_ I hissed.

"Edward, wait--" she whispered.

I heard footfalls, heavy and sluggish over the floor boards toward the doorway.

Bella's round eyes, filled with anxiety but blended with a fiery burst of anger swept over my face. I would not let her talk me into letting her come with me.

I'd already been stupid enough to drag her into the back of that SUV.

I turned my head away and sauntered slowly to the slice of light occupying a foot of the apartment's entrance. Someone was in there and it wasn't Esme. I was sure of it. I wished I had a gun, but only if James had one. If not, I wouldn't be at a terrible disadvantage. I'd much like to kill him with my bare hands. I'd already killed the bitch who shot Bella...but it still wasn't enough.

It felt like a spectacular debt that had to be repayed. My Isabella deserved more than anyone could give her; I knew, of course that she wouldn't hear of this, but that made it nothing if not more true. So undoubtedly _good_, was she, that my Bella would take me back with open arms. A coward. A killer. A do-er of the most miserable wrongs. To atone, would it be too bold to take _her_ wrong-doers out of the equation. Like an avenging angel of some sort, I felt not only personally responsible for fucking these people up, but someone so innately good as Bella, should have it done for her, regardless of who they are.

It was because I loved her so much, that I was volunteering myself to the position.

However plagued by bias or irrationality because of that fact, it didn't stop me from planning it all out so that it _would_ be done.

Bordering on insane rage and murderous bloodlust, I forgot about stealth and trudged straight into the abyss, not sure of whether or not I would come out on the other side.

Love left alot of room for stupidity.

My hand flew out to the wall as I heard the footsteps retreat across the room.

"Who's there?" I growled.

"Who are you?" the voice demanded back.

Not James' voice. Perculiar. But by no means any reason to relax and shake their hand. They were still uninvited and intuding in my girlfriend's apartment.

I found the light switch and at the same time, my feet carried me to the figure standing awkwardly next to the sofa. Bringing my fist around the collar of his shirt and not taking stock in his clothes, his appearance of his face, I threw him up against the opposite wall, lifting his feet off of the ground.

"Edward!" Bella cried, distressed.

Then she gasped, horrified.

BPOV

"Jacob?!" I shrieked.

Edward looked extremely displeased.

Jacob, tall, gangly and inept even at age twenty one. God, he was only just legal to drink.

"W-w-what are...I mean--what the fuck are you doing here?" I asked, not interested in making pleasantries after his less-than-intelligent form of rendezvous.

My heart, spluttering and barely restrained to my ribcage was not used to so much stress.

I sank down, uneasily to the couch.

"You two know each other?" Edward demanded, his teeth gritted, his eyes blazing murderously.

"Let go of me!" he panted, struggling against Edward's larger frame.

"Edward," I said softly.

He glanced back at me before begrudgingly releasing my so-called intruder. His red converse all-stars hit the floor with a thud. Edward had, none-too-gently let him fall from his perch, subtly shoving him back again in the process. They seethed at each other for a moment before the tension was cut off like an umbilical cord, snapping Edward's attention straight back to me as if he only just remembered I was still here, sitting, waiting.

Like usual, he was unneccessarily worried about me. He posessively wrapped his arm around my shoulders instead of my waist, knowing my tender spot needed no more pressure. I was still struck with...

Jacob!

I mean, he was here!

After four years!

"How did you get in here?" I asked, not very happy.

He let out a frustrated breath, scowled at Edward for a split-second before heaving his long body and plopping it down on the oppposite sofa.

"Door was open," he answered nonchalantly.

"So you just invited yourself in?" I demanded angrily. What was this place, a stop n drop?

People still had to knock and wait outside of people's houses didn't they?

"Actually, I did." A small voice sounded from far across the room in the direction of the bathroom.

I spun and winced. The movement tugged on my stitches. I slowly, gently stood up, my posture hunched and furious.

Renee faced me with her sorrowful, lined face. She had aged at least three years recently, in an eigth of the time.

Well, I thought bitterly. Its not like she was a totally fucking innocent party.

She smiled a small smile, full of regret and sheepishness. I glanced between her and Jacob.

To say I was overwhelmed...

"I..." I choked, trying to swallow the tightness in my throat.

Constricting around the acidic taunts I wanted to throw at my hateful mother. I still could not get them out, I could't get them around the horrid obstruction that was my conscious. Luckily, Edward could almost read my mind.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" Edward snarled, standing up along side me.

As if Renee could hurtle some physical threat in my direction, he stood between us and glared at her as she made her way closer.

She came to a halt a few feet away, not that she wanted to; Edward wouldn't let her come any closer.

Heaving in deep breaths, I tried not to think of Phil when I saw my mother's face. As complicated as our relationship has always been, I still didn't want to blame her; there was still the child in me, the innocent, naive, loving little thing that wanted the maternal affection that Renee was previously devoid of but looked like she was capable of now.

But did it matter what my inner-child wanted?

I would never get all that time back, untainted. It would always involved Phil. Always the terror. A festering wound; one not as temporary as I yeilded now.

"You have no right--" Edward barked until he was cut off by an incredulous Jacob Black.

"Don't speak to her like that, she's Bella's Mom. Who the fuck are you?" he shouted, glowering and standing up from his slumped post.

My breathing hitched around a sob--too much. Too much!

"I'm responsible for Bella." he answered low, narrowing his eyes at both of them.

"Jake, you haven't been in my life for four years--"

"That's because you fucking walked out on me!" he retorted.

He brought out my defensive side.

"My father had just died! What, did you expect me to stay in that dead-end town just for you?" I wailed.

The tears sprouted but I was beyond caring at this point. Let them see me cry, what did it fucking matter.

"You show up on my doorstep! Tonight?! Of all nights? With my _mother?_" I elbowed Edward aside to stare into Jacob's flat black eyes.

His posture straightened and he lifted his chin, folding his arms across his chest.

"I was in town, actually. I ran into your mother and she told me what happened."

Simple as that.

I shook my head, dumbfounded.

With no more ammo, I whirled on Renee. She frowned worriedly at me, begging me with her eyes for some sort of forgiveness. As if reconciling me with an ugly past would score her a golden fucking ticket back into my life?

"What are you trying to do, Mom?" I spit at her.

She splutters for an explanation, her hands wringing anxiously in front of her like she's squeezing water out of a sponge.

Her bouncy red curls are drab and lifeless at the moment, hanging in loose strands over her head. She looked ill.

"Are you intent on not letting me forget him?"

I knew she knew I wasn't talking about Jacob Black.

She took an unconscious step forward.

"Watch yourself," Edward warned.

"I was worried about you and I know it's not fair for me to ask it...but I want you to forgive me...for...for everything, Bella!" she cried out at the end, muffling her sobs into her palm.

I recoil.

"You're right. That _is _an insult," I agree whole-heartedly.

"It's too late for that shit, Mom. If you wanted forgiveness you should have tried twenty years ago. Maybe when I was willing to listen." My voice broke and she sobbed harder.

Good.

"Or, maybe, you could have tried to apologise when I screamed for help at night. When I cried myself to sleep..." I offered, my chin trembling.

Edward's hand tightened almost painfully around my arm; I barely registered it.

"Was it too much to ask?" My voice was steadily rising. "For my Mother to help me when I told her that her _husband raped me _that night?!" my voice was almost a scream.

I fumed, watching my Mom cry into her hands, her face red and gaunt. The rest of the room was quiet.

"GET. OUT." I order suddenly.

Quite an intelligent move for her, Renee quickly does as I demand and grabs her leather bag from the arm of the sofa and swings it over her shoulder, not looking back.

I huff, exhausted.

"Bells..." Jacob murmurs apologetically.

I turn to stare at him and nod, answering his silent question.

Yeah, it's true.

"Maybe I should come back later...?"

I don't answer. I run to my room and slam the hard wooden door, letting the harsh vibrations settle through the living room where Edward and Jacob still stood silently. In no wya had I expected to see Renee, let alone Jacob. But what shocked me more was not my ex's presence, but Renee's pleas for salvation!

Sickened, I stripped down to my underwear, carelessly throwing my clothes to the floor and climbing into bed with a sigh.

I had been emotional high's and low's all week. Was it too much to ask...for a little rest? I heard muffled talking on the other side of the door before more footsteps and the front door clicking gently closed, followed by more muted footfalls which came closer to my resting place.

The door opened and Edward's sillhouette appeared.

"I'm sorry." were the first words to fall from his mouth.

I groan.

"Do. Not. Apologize for them." I tell him.

I roll over and bury my face into a pillow. I wait while he gets undressed.

I feel his stubble brush my cheek, then his soft lips are at my ear.

"I'm proud of you." he mumbles.

"Instead of falling into a mess and refusing to talk to her...you let her know what you thought...told her what you could and couldn't offer her. Personally, I wouldn't have been as esy on her..." his tone grew darker, taking on a dangerous edge.

I sigh and lift my head up to look into his eyes.

"Maybe..." I mutter, shrugging.

"But it hasn't made me feel any better."

He strokes the back of his hand down my cheek and up again.

"But how can she expect forgiveness? After that? And even if you will, how can she ask so soon? And after everything that's happened?" his voice deepened again and his eyes took on a deadly, wistful stare into nothingness.

"Edward," I whisper, quickly dragging his mind away from morbid internal ramblings.

I touch the tip of my index finger to his rough chin, running it over his bottom lip.

"...make love to me."

I had never asked him of this before.

I had asked for sex. I had asked for a fuck....

But never had I asked him to _love_ me.

I almost felt nervous.

He rolled onto his back and gently scooped me up, pulling my body along with his.

I noticed quickly that he was totally naked. Shimmiying out of my panties, I gradually get into a sitting position, straddling his lap. This position would be less painful for me, I think. I reckon thats what he had in mind, in the first place.

"Tell me what you need, Bella." he murmurs.

I smile bashfully, feeling no residue of hate from the prior fight.

Instead of speaking it out loud, I lean down to place my lips on his. Soft, moist, delicious. His tongue flicked out to meet mine. Supressing a need to rush into the act, I lifted my mouth from his, licking my lips and bringing my hands behind my back to unclasp my bra. The thick guazy material that stuck to my side was a pain in the ass, but I couldn't exactly discard it like a piece of clothing.

Despite my battered body, Edward marvelled in my skin, letting his hands roam lovingly over it. I shuddered, having waited WAY too long to experience being with him again. There was such thing as TOO long, I think.

His cock was hard, pressing against my clit, between my thighs and reaching my stomach. He grasped my hip with one hand and scooted back so he could lean against the head board of the bed, his eyes alight with excitement for what I knew he had been just as eager to do again.

I had my knees on either side of his hips now, my shins flat against the mattressa and my feet curled out. I trailed my finger up his length and smiled as I felt the shiver ripple through his body under mine. Feeling my moisture on his legs, he places his fingers inside me, letting them slowly, one-by-one slide down my slit and ease into my core.

"Oh...been...so long..." I say breathlessly, barely intelligable language right now.

Not that I could be blamed.

So wanton and full of desire, I begin to move my hips against his fingers. He flicks his thumb over my clit, causing me to jerk slightly and squeak. He chuckles next to my ear as lean into his shoulder, kissing and nibbling my way down his neck. I take his face in my hands and meet his mouth with a wild growl. As if he was man in a desert, finding a fresh water spring, Edward kisses me back with even more fervour.

"So glad...we still have this." he pants, his fingers becoming faster, rubbing me harder to the point where I can feel my walls begin to ache with the effort of holding off my climax.

"Mmm..." I moan against his lips.

He takes his fingers from me and grasps my left ass cheek. I take one hand from his face but do not dream of breaking the kiss, our connection. I wander down to his strained erection between us, tickling his head with my fingertips first before I lift myself up and onto him. Not without wetting his tip with my wetness first. He lets out a shuddering breath.

"It feels like this is all new," he whispers, strained.

I let my hands roam back to his face. One grabs his jaw and the other twines through his bronze tresses.

His fingers, finding sensitive spots at the small of my back. He lets his tongue slip back into my mouth, running it against mine, out and over my lip.

"Ah, Oh...my god, Edward!" I gasp, my eyes popping open.

By mistake, he hits my g-spot and I clench around him. He groans. I let my hips move faster against him, hungry for more of the same sensation. Breathing heavily with half-closed eyes, I stare at Edward as he places his hand flat over my heart.

"Beautiful." he murmurs, his voice carried to my ears through the dark.

I bend forward to kiss him again, his hand slips away and starts teasing my sensitive, swollen nub. I swear against his lips but continue to suck at him...letting my tongue explore him once more.

"I was afraid I would...lose this..." he tells me with a groan as I lift myself up and down, gliding slickly, his dick getting coated with my moisture.

So hot. So wet.

"I'm glad we didn't." I moan, rocking harder than before.

I hit a brick wall, almost as if I didn't see it coming--and cry out but not before I bite Edward's lip.

He growls but can't help himself from spilling directly into me just after I come down.

I can feel we've made a mess, but I stay put. I pant, sweaty and overheated into Edward's neck as he smooths his lips over my hair.

Inhaling his scent and willing all the bad shit to go away, I close my eyes.

Edward lifts me up and takes us to the bathroom where he cleans us up and carries me back to the bedroom.

"Thanks, I feel pretty boneless." I say sleepily, yawning as he lies down next to me and gets comfortable.

"I don't." he jokes. I laugh a little.

"I asked you to make love to me." I tell him out of the blue.

"And?" he's confused.

"We've never done that."

He breaths heavily, almost exasperated, like I'm missing something.

"Everytime with you, Bella--it's been more than just physical gratification..."

I frown.

"Every single time we've been together, I've been making love to you. Whether you knew it or I knew it."

I smile, even though he can't see me.

I kiss him fully on the mouth.


	21. Solitary Silence

**MY COMPUTER IS FIXED!**

***collective hoorah***

**Finally! I can go back to a normal pattern of updating for my lovely readers. Have you missed me? How long has it been since my last BM update? Haha, BM.**

**Anyways, add me on Twitter if you haven't already: THREALbirobird**

**Fic recs: Send em to me and Guardward will give you a naughty spank.**

**Don't neglect the review button, it has feelings too, and it wants to be touched ;D**

**What have I missed while I've been away? How is everyone? Anything to tell me? **

**You guys have been great lately, though. Everyone who has continued to review even two months since my last update! You're either awesomely loyal or...you...just haven't read the story yet. Ahem.**

**Anyways, for those who have lost heart in my abilities, I sincerely apologise.**

**But in the words of Edward Cullen "I'm not leaving your side until you order me away."**

**3 Semi-trailer loads full of love for all!  
**

* * *

I woke with a start, rolling over into an empty space of warm bed. Edward is gone. I frown but my eyes remain closed. I stretch and groan like a cat, careful not to stretch too hard and pop my fuckin' stitches; which kind of sounds like a euphemism. I sigh loudly, my legs and torso twisted tightly in the sheets. I lick my dry lips and my eyes fling open; I suddenly realise that _Edward is actually fucking gone._

Sitting upright after I was practically strangling myself with the bedding caused me to struggle a bit too harshly. I made a loud, perfunctory thud on the carpet as I rolled off. Wheezing; I try righting myself and am greeted with an unpleasant stabbing to my ribs.

"Oh, mother fucker..." I murmur, like my wound was offending me.

I glare at it then sigh again as small dots of blood appear through the gauze. I decided that maybe it would be best if I use a little more adeptness and carefully unravel myself from the killer Egyptian cotton.

My puzzling about Edward's absence evaporated when he came through the bedroom door; quite hastily with two steaming mugs in his hands. He spots me on the ground.

"Oh, shit! Are you alright?" he asks, placing the coffee on the nightstand above my head.

"What were you trying to do? Wrestle mattress?" he chuckled, but it died out as he took inventory of my now bloody bandage.

I cover it with my palm and he looks reprovingly into my bedroom eyes. I use my opposite hand to rub my hazy eyes.

"If you've hurt yourself again, we need to get it looked at—"

"No, no, no, newbie. No." I answer him with a stern look.

"I don't want to go back there. It smells funky, doctor's hands are cold and...and..."

And I think he understood.

He watched me carefully before wrapping his arm around my waist and offering his other for me to hold. I accept it with a grateful smile as he helps me sit back down on the edge of the bed.

The sun illuminated the golden highlights in his hair; he was freshly shaven and his teeth were brushed. His breath was minty and lovely and fucking awesome as it blew across my face through his sigh. His nimble fingers traced the bags under my eyes; I make a modest attempt to turn his attention away from them. He doesn't need the impression that I'm losing sleep. I'm not. I'm sleeping even more than _him._ It's stress, in addition to my new injury (which is going to leave one wicked scar) that's causing my fatigue.

He can't possibly blame himself for that.

But, trusting Edward, if I missed my bus, he'd probably think he unbalanced the universe or some shit and _caused_ it to be late.

Anything wrong and he'd pin all the responsibility upon himself. Like always.

I glance at the coffee mugs, the aroma is tantalising in the frosty morning air. Edward must seriously be able to read my mind because he stands up and finds my robes hanging from the doorknob then hands them to me.

He's dressed in his clothes from last night, but somehow manages to make them look brand new and smell fuck-awesome.

I also think I'm still loopy from the pain meds, but, oh well.

I look down at my half-sheathed naked body and sigh for the third time. Edward notices my lack of morning cheer and places a finger under my chin, lifting my face to his eye level; he was kneeling in front of me.

"Hey," he said softly.

"What's got you looking like your puppy just got garrotted?" he asks, coughing on his coffee, highly amused at his own morbid humour.

I lift an eyebrow and roll my eyes.

He splutters a bit and realises, sheepishly, that I am not laughing.

"Sorry,"

I nod.

"No, it's just—how do you look so good in the morning?" I whine, screwing my face up and pouting.

He kisses my protruding bottom lip, a naughty smile on his face.

"I mean, we just banged like animals back there," I nod my head towards the messy bed, Edward's eyes linger wistfully.

"And you look like an Armani ad, whereas..." I glance down at my body again.

"I look like a white trash hooker who just got knifed for her liquor bottle."

Edward rolls his eyes and places his coffee mug back on the nightstand next to my untouched cup. He places warm hands, extra heated from the ceramic mug, on my shins. His calloused knuckles brush my knees and I give an involuntary shudder. He parts my satin robe with his fingers; they flutter pleasantly over my thighs and rest on my hips. He thrusts me towards him, sending my heart into overdrive.

"I-I always love some of this in the mornings," I breathe vaguely, leaning back on my elbows.

Edward laughed.

"Yes, I always love some nookie with my hot beverages."

I chuckled shakily and let my eyes roll back into my head as I felt his warm lips press against the skin at my hip. It was surprisingly sensitive to his touch. Goose bumps rose all over my body; Edward's lips plus the cold, brisk morning air was a mixture of pleasure and...pleasure.

Edward lifted my legs up and rested them on his shoulders.

"You definitely don't _look_ like white trash." He whispered to my crotch.

I snorted but couldn't find it in me to remain amused, not when his tongue flicked out to touch my inner thigh. Normal thought was gone. I felt like it was the first time he was touching me...again. It was weird, there weren't enough limbs on my body to count how many times we'd done this and yet, I still felt the thrill of his caresses and kisses as if it were happening for the first time.

I still felt beginner's nerves and the flutter of excitement in my stomach.

I was pretty sure I'd done this before.

And then, his mouth met my soaking slit and I was on cloud fucking nine.

I forgot where I was, I forgot what two plus two was, I forgot that I was making very loud noises when Esme was probably home...but...well...he was just so fucking good at this.

I cupped my own breasts and rubbed my thumbs over my nipples, doubling the sensations.

Edward groaned and mumbled something that was muffled like his mouth was full. Ha-ha.

My chest was rising and falling rapidly as his tongue worked languidly over my throbbing clit.

"Mmm, oh, God!" I shrieked.

Edward just thrust two of his fingers inside me; without warning they began to move and curl inside me. Already panting, I was getting close to hyperventilating and shoving his face into my vag but that wouldn't be nice, especially if he couldn't breathe.

I ran my fingers, gently, through his hair as he licked and sucked, adding a bit of nibbling every so often that it drove me fucking crazy.

He picked up the pace and found a nice rhythm between fingering me and sliding his tongue over my swollen nub.

A white heat settled between my legs and slowly spread through the rest of my body, leaving tingles in its wake. My back arched off the bed and with one final groan and shiver, I came undone before him.

With a triumphant grin, he pulled me back up into a sitting position. He licked his lips and kissed me, both of his hands cradling my face.

I brushed my tongue across his top lip, tasting the essence of 'me'. I laughed at myself. I was _so_ still loopy from the pain meds.

Edward gave me a puzzled look but didn't ask what I was giggling at, then reached for his coffee mug again, taking a sip and handing me mine.

"So, you gonna strangle the monkey?" I asked nonchalantly.

Unfortunately, Edward had just filled his mouth with coffee and it sprayed impressively over me and the bed. Instead of squealing and ducking out of the way, my eyes welled with tears from laughter and I ended up rolling around in a fit of giggles.

"St-strangle? The monkey?" Edward coughed, his face red.

"Is that what you call my penis behind my back?" he asked and he looked genuinely incredulous.

That just made me laugh harder.

"N-No...it's just-just a figure of speech," I finally managed to choke out.

"You know, strangling the monkey," I explained, bursts of giggles erupting from my mouth as I shrugged out of my now sticky-with-coffee robes.

"Bopping the baloney, the devil's handshake?"

Edward stared at me with a surprised smirk on his face then shook his head, standing up from his kneeling position.

"I'll never figure you out, Bella." He sighed.

"I'm going to make more coffee."

I stripped the bed that day, but had no conscious memory of using the laundry in my building.

I didn't want to ask Esme where it was, though. If she knew I was doing any sort of manual labour, she would have me strapped down to a gurney in order to keep me still and 'safe from straining myself'. Edward, however, was easier to get off my back.

I just threatened to leave the apartment by myself and he'd shut up and let me carry the washing basket out the door.

"I'll be five minutes, tops, and I'm staying in the building. Make yourself comfortable and watch some T.V or something, Newbie. Don't make me withhold sex." I warned, eyeing him like a kindergarten teacher eyes a pupil who's attempted to eat play dough.

He sighed and plopped down on the couch in front of the T.V, staring at the dent in the wall he made with Jacob's head. I smiled reassuringly and closed the door behind me. I had my IPod in my pocket and a novel sitting atop the laundry pile, ready for my domestic date with the Laundromat.

I ambled over to the elevator, absently pressing the 'close-doors' button. I didn't like to share.

I surveyed the buttons for a moment and decided the 'L' button may be the best bet to get where I want.

I hum to myself as the numbers on the screen get lower and lower. I reach the right floor, thanking in large part to my obvious 'right-elevator-button-intuitiveness'.

I heaved, carefully, the hamper of sheets and clothes under my arm on my good side. The doors slide open. There was someone waiting on the other side and we do the awkward shuffle dance as we try to get past each other then both make the exact move that puts us in the other's way.

My pockets jingle with change as I grab the woman's arm and slowly manoeuvre her to my right side. She smiles helplessly and laughs a little.

"Sorry," she chuckles, moving into the vacant lift.

I smile and nod.

"My name's Kate by the way." She says, shaking my hand quickly before the doors close.

"Bella." I reply with a small smile.

But I didn't hear or see a reaction as the doors closed between us. I felt slightly buoyant; I had actually, for the first time, made a friend in the building I had been living in for four years. I hummed a bit louder and more happily as I scooted over to the washers.

I heaved the basket on to the edge of the white machine and shovelled the dirty washing in. I found some coins and used the soap powder dispenser on the wall (which vaguely reminded me of the tampon dispenser in every public ladies room) and ripped open the packet, pouring it carelessly over the top of the soiled sheets.

I wonder how long it had been since they'd been washed...Esme probably did it without me knowing.

I sighed, closing the lid with a metallic clang and twisted the dial around.

It made another few thumps itself then the unmistakable sound of rushing water issued from inside. I sat down on the wooden bench beside it and got my IPod out. I grabbed my novel and opened it up to a random page to see if it was worth reading. If it wasn't interesting in the middle, it wasn't worth my time at all.

I was perfectly fine. I had _been_ perfectly fine for days, for the most part, save for last night. But I truly was doing okay—I hadn't really lost it yet.

But I merely had to stumble across a name that jumped from the yellowing page of my romance book and burned my eyes.

_James._

My stomach gave an uncomfortable heave and I found myself clutching the seat and the shuddering washer beside me for support. I let the book fall to the floor.

I felt like a ridiculous waste of space. I felt too incredibly weak. I had just read _the name!_ And it was sending me into a panic attack!

I loathed the fact that I even feared the bastard's name. That it caused me fear when I saw it or thought it. Then my mind shuffled through everything I had been mentally avoiding for days now; not only for my benefit, but for Edward's, too. I hated his anguish; it affected me worse than my own.

My eyes stung. I bit my lip to distract me but it didn't help. I felt suffocated.

I should have let Edward come with me; but that sounded weak, too. And I would never forgive myself if I let him clean me up when I was in this sort of state.

I no longer felt the light euphoria that fogged my brain from the medication. Like his name served as an alarm clock, I felt groggy and nauseous, not looking forward to the day ahead.

I stood up hastily, dropping my IPod. I hadn't even known what song was playing or if it was even turned on at all.

I scrambled toward the elevator on the opposite side of the room; punching the 'up' button.

It felt like the walls were closing in on me, every shadow was a face, every noise was someone chasing after me.

Breathing hard, the doors finally opened to, thankfully, an empty lift. I made it take me to the ground floor so I could get some _fresh_ air.

Rushing through the lobby full of people, I felt all eyes on my back and my burning face. I was embarrassed and angry with myself. I just needed to look at the sun, the trees, moving cars...whatever I could to know that the world was still spinning.

I wasn't stuck in the middle of chaos. That everything was fine, that the chaos was just my head.

I stepped out onto the street and sucked in a deep breath. It wasn't the freshest air there was; it was no forest or wide open meadow. It was a city. But it cleared my head a little. The nausea receded a little.

I leaned over a bit, clutching my stomach like it was about to fall out of my navel.

I squeezed my eyes shut and took a few calming gulps of air. I backed up to the brick wall of my building behind me and folded my arms, leaning my head back against the hard surface.

If I looked semi-normal no-one would bother me. I wasn't sane-looking enough to approach, nor was I crazy enough to apprehend.

I wanted someone to tell me I wasn't weak.

I wanted someone to walk up to me and tell me that it was all taken care of, that I could leave my home, leave my job and not be afraid of someone trying to get me. I felt like a child with a bogey man in my closet.

My house was my bedroom and the outside world was my closet.

I wanted someone to tell me _he_ was dead. And I wanted to smile and laugh about it.

I didn't want to worry and I didn't want to worry about Edward worrying about me.

I wanted calm.

I tried to hum a calming melody under my breath.

I felt a headache forming in my temples. I needed to get back to the washing and if Edward knew I was acting this way, he'd freak out like he always did.

"How you doin'?" A low voice asked me.

My eyes flew open, that voice sounded shockingly familiar.

I almost gasped as it jolted through me, but as I took in the leering man in front of me, I relaxed a little. Just a stupid wank-job. No-one of consequence.

"I'm fine." I sighed, leaning my head back again.

He must have taken this as an affirmation to engage in contact with the target. I didn't know why I was thinking in combat terms...

I opened one eye to see him watching my chest unabashedly.

"So, brownie, want some fun or something? There's a bar that's open about now, wanna get a drink with me?" he asks, biting his lip.

I closed my eye again and smirked.

"It's, like, ten in the morning, dude." I told him with an air of indifference.

I felt suddenly Zen. I suppose this douche's advances were enough to disperse my attention.

"A perfect time to have a drink, don't you think?"

I straightened up and opened my eyes. I reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder. He'd be about my own height, slightly taller, he was wearing jeans and a band t-shirt. His hair was a dirty blonde colour, short and hacked. His eyes were brown and depthless.

"Buddy, I gotta tell you, this point of attack isn't working for you." I pat his shoulder once and turn to leave.

"What, you're going to turn me down?" he called after me and I could hear his footsteps advancing.

My mind flashed recklessly; to the night I was shot. Footsteps, shouting. Too many people. Chaos again.

It needed to stop.

"Yes, now leave me alone." I warned, my voice now shaky and unconfident.

"Fine," he muttered, looking at me like I was a martian.

A moment ago I was acting completely different, I didn't blame him for thinking I was from a different planet.

Too many people. Too much chaos.

Two panic attacks.

What if I needed to be committed?

The thought worried me more.

I shook my head and concentrated on everything around me; no-one was staring at me, no-one was following me.

Sometimes, when you were afraid, it's easy to forget the whole world isn't out to get you.

Wringing my hands together, I walked back into the building, circled the front desk and decided that I needed just a few more moments outside.

I walked a bit further into the street this time before retreating back to the Laundromat.

I pulled the wet washing out of the machine and shoved it into a dryer.

I sat back down on my perch and picked up my novel only to throw it into a trash can on the way out. I pocketed my beloved IPod and grabbed the dry, fragrant washing basket, hitching it onto my hip and striding towards the elevator.

Hitting the button for my floor again, I stood in solitary silence until the bell dinged, signalling the lift had stopped.

I readjusted the basket and began to walk down the corridor. As I walked, I tried to think detachedly about _him._ Where could he be hiding in this city? We hadn't had much news from the cops of late. There hadn't been any advances, no leads as to where he was lurking or if he was even still in Chicago.

If he was still here, what was he waiting for? Was he going to wait until Edward left me alone? If he was, he was stupider than I thought.

Like Edward said, he was all ambush, no strategy.

I doubted he'd come up with a fail-safe plan to come after me, anyway.

A door opened in front of me; the woman from before appeared, a surprised look on her face, shifting into a scowl.

My smile faded, I had been prepared to start small talk—something I rarely fucking did, mind you.

I decided within a split second that I'd ignore the bitch. But her stance and her piercing stare told me she wanted to talk, or just stare...

"Bella?" she asked through gritted teeth.

I glanced around me.

"Yeah, who else? Is something wrong?" I offered, maybe a friendship was salvageable despite her curtness.

I wondered if maybe I'd accidently offended her when we met before. Did she not like the name Bella, or something?

She took a step forward. Intimidated, I took a step back to maintain some personal space. I wasn't _that_ used to human interaction.

"How is Edward doing?" she smiled, losing the glare.

I blanked.

"Huh?"

She must have been joking.

"Edward? Or should I call him sarge? What position was he anyway? James hasn't bothered to tell me."


	22. Wake of a Wicked Woman's Words

_So, I know all of you guys were pissed at that cliffie-I was too, but you should be used to it by now (Ima bitch) LOLz_

_OH oh oh oh oh oh, I'm sure you're already talking about this, but jeeees! Remember Me, most epic movive ever! If you haven't seen it or weren't planning to--PLEASE DO! Because you will be blown away by Robert's acting talent. Purely amazing, that man._

_And then theres the whole TWILIGHT SAGA: ECLIPSE TRAILER BEING RELEASED!_

_About fucking time! Crapola. I'm so happy with it, though, honing in on around about 12 times watched today. :) Love Edward's lines in it so far--Jacob the man-child has also lost some definition, I noticed._

_I'm in love with Tyler from Remember Me, now. One of my favourite parts is when he yells "Pussies!"  
_

* * *

I felt my hands go slack, losing grip of the basket hitched on my hip. I stuttered, my eyes twitching.

"W-what?" I squeaked, my composure sliding off like an avalanche.

Kate stared down at me, an evil smirk on her mouth.

"James—my brother. You know each other, I presume? He speaks a lot about you, Bella."

I gulped, backing up and shaking my head in denial.

"No-no," my breathing was erratic and the walls around me began to shimmer.

"He's gone—James is gone!"

I could feel myself losing it. I had only just grasped stability; it was fading just as rapidly now, in the wake of a wicked woman's words.

I was sucked in a deep lungful of air as she advanced on me, prepared to vocallise my terror just from her association with _him._ When rough, calloused, ugly hands grasped the tops of my arms.

My voice died out in my throat and then it was all I could do to breathe once they clapped a firm, wide hand over my mouth. I tried wrenching it off with my own but Kate hastily moved forward to help restrain my flailing limbs and lumbering body. I tried to be a dead weight, but of course, I was too light for that and it only helped them get hold of me.

I tried struggling harshly as they carried me into Kate's apartment.

The only sounds audible were my muffled cries, smothered by a thick hand and the subsequent scuffle through the doorway, my feet thumping against the walls.

My eyes were blurred with tears. I lost my fighting strength—the following few minutes were to be my last.

* * *

I sat watching T.V for twenty minutes until I started to grow antsy. I sighed and wandered back into Bella's bedroom.

I threw myself back down on her bed and rolled around a bit, trying to get comfortable enough just to doze off before she came back from doing laundry.

I should have gone with her, but Bella was Bella—the Stone Queen—and if I wanted to keep my balls, I would let her do stuff by herself or forever have them in an iron vice.

I much rather having my balls intact, so I reluctantly stayed behind. I was bored out of my fucking mind, though. But for some reason or another, I couldn't let my eyes fall—I was tired, yes, exhausted—but they stayed sprung open.

I fought against the urge to go outside and 'accidentally' bump into Bella, although it would seem obvious I was checking on her as I was fairly sure the laundry was detached from the main areas of the building and it would seem quite conspicuous to end up there.

I sighed again, heaving breath out of my lungs and watching it stir the dust motes in the air. I heard a vague thump; most likely from down the hall.

It had to be loud though, for the distance and how thick these walls were.

I frowned, sitting up and listening as if it were important.

The door opened then and Esme strolled inside. I hadn't noticed that she had left in the first place; possibly whilst I had been otherwise occupied with Bella and coffee this morning. I suppose she didn't necessarily want to listen to that shit, especially so early. I stood in the doorway, leaning on the wooden frame of Bella's room and giving her a small, sheepish smile and wave as she closed the door behind her.

"Oh, hello, Edward." She grinned, her hands were full of brown paper bags; groceries.

She hobbled over to the kitchen counter and dumped her load onto the granite before beginning to pack it all away into the usually scarce cupboards.

"Where's Bella, honey?" she asked casually, placing a bottle of wine—which looked expensive—inside the door of the fridge.

"She _insisted_ on doing laundry after, um...our sheets needed cleaning," I offered, mumbling into silence while Esme pressed her lips together to keep from laughing.

"Mhmm..." then she comprehended.

Her tongue clucked disapprovingly.

"She shouldn't be doing that crap!" she scolded me as if it was my fault—probably.

I should have reined her in. It was my job to tell her when she was being a stubborn pain in the ass; she was supposed to call me names and slap me over the head when I was being controlling—it was our process.

"She _insisted_, Esme," I told her, lifting a brow, indicating the common knowledge that when Bella wanted to do something, you didn't fight with her.

She sighed and went back to packing silently. I walked over and occupied myself with ordering the spices and helping Esme pack everything else into the fridge.

"Well, how long is she going to be, then?" she asked, glancing at her gold wrist watch and frowning.

Her mouth moved, silently counting to herself. I watched and realised that she was right—Bella was probably having trouble carrying the basket.

"You should go check on her," she murmured, voicing my thoughts back to me with a stern expression.

I smiled at the maternal protectiveness she exerted over Bella—especially since Bella had experienced none of the kind when she was a child, when she needed it.

I sauntered to the door, worried that Bella would pick a fight with me for trying to help her when Esme spoke up again.

"Oh, and I think the neighbours are having a healthy fucking session—should have heard the thumping and screaming coming from down the hall," she gave a delicate shudder as she handled a box of cereal.

I laughed and shook my head at her—she should be used to me and Bella making our sexual exploits known around the house.

We aren't abashed about noise.

I let the apartment door swing closed behind me—I was beginning to feel increasingly comfortable there. I hadn't been home in days—not since I had acted like a dick and abandoned Bella at the hospital. I felt like smacking my face into a brick wall for doing that. I needed a fresh supply of clothes, as I didn't plan on leaving Bella's side while she was still healing.

It would be a long time before I even thought about forgiving myself for that hesitance. I could have destroyed everything by hesitating.

Luckily, Bella was the way that she was; she slapped me and forgave me like the odd little creature she is. Something I plan on working out, even if it takes till the day I die. And I had already planned on staying with Bella until that happened.

Maybe I had a choice once—before I met her.

But I didn't have a choice now.

I wondered if Bella would be terribly opposed to living with me, and not just temporarily. I'm talking about something permanent. Commitment.

I was ready to make it—was Bella ready, too?

It pained me to the core to doubt she was; but I couldn't exactly pressure her into giving herself to me, every last little part of her. I know how scared she was to invest herself in someone else, not after everything she'd lost in the past.

It would only mean that I would have to support her. Every tear and every tantrum. I didn't care if I got angry at her, or if she felt like she couldn't look at me without screaming; I didn't care if we fought, or if she hit me for drinking milk from the carton. Every bump and bruise, every fight and every grievance, I wanted to share with her.

Would she reciprocate those feelings?

I knew she loved me, deeply—it was just a question of if she was ready to take that leap.

I sighed to myself, struck with a conundrum. I would have to keep my mouth shut for the moment, though. We had only just come home from the hospital and she needed to recuperate, we both did from that whole fiasco.

I punched in the button for the laundry and the doors closed on me, reflecting my bruised face back at them.

I shook my head at myself and closed my eyes, humming along with the melody playing through the copper speakers above my head.

The doors slid open and I strolled out, searching over the three rows of washers and dryers to see if Bella was crouched down in front of one or something.

A woman in her early sixties was sitting on one of the benches across the room, but she was preoccupied with a _Times Magazine_. I glanced around the room once more, confused. I couldn't have missed her. She must have gone out—I would have met her on the elevator, otherwise. I thought seriously that she may have guessed I was going to come down and check on her—would she hide from me?

I pursed my lips, frowning again at the old lady in the floral dress and tattered brown slippers. I bit my lip and wandered back through the maze of white machines back to the lift—stifling the urge to yell out her name.

She wouldn't thank me for that.

I pressed the button again, waiting with my arms folded across my chest. I scratched my cheek and winced, still a little tender from being punched there.

It dinged and the doors slid open; I didn't exactly enjoy the sight I saw.

Fists clenched, I took an intimidating step forward.

"What are you doing here?" I asked Jacob—could he detect the deep threaded loathing in my tone.

Rationally, Bella and I shouldn't be angry with Jacob—he had tried to connect with his old friend and Bella had cut him off. He only wanted to give remorse, for not even doing anything that required forgiveness.

It was only his association with Renee—the oblivious, neglectful almost to the point of abuse, Mother of Bella's. The one she hated most—second to Phil.

Jacob backed up a little, threatened by my confronting pose and stature. I was six foot, five; Jacob couldn't be more than six feet tall. I was taller and quite possibly the strongest of the two.

I silently lavished this fact.

He stared at me through furrowed brows and a scowl. He had his hands up, palms towards me.

"Easy," he stated, attempting to negotiate.

I heard the doors close behind me and noted Jacob gulping, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat as I towered over him, keeping my hands fisted at my sides in a subconscious reaction to this man—the only other significant man Bella had had in her life. The only other man she had a romantic relationship with. The thought alone could either make me ill, or murderously angry.

He was wearing a denim jacket, a red t-shirt and ripped jeans, wiping his sweaty palms over his thighs. I was making him nervous, not that I doubted he could defend himself, just not enough to beat me.

"Like I asked, what are you doing here?" I pressed again.

He took a long, slow breath.

"I wanted to apologise, you know—offer peace and possibly get her to talk to her Mother again," he offered.

I growled.

"She's in no shape—"

"Why don't you let _her_ decide that."

"I know what's best for her; she _knows_ what's best for her—and she definitely does _not_ want to see Renee. She feels sick enough as it is." I snarled.

We had reached my floor again as this was where we were both headed.

"You're not seeing her," I stated firmly, less aggressively.

His eyes flashed and he glared.

"Since when do you speak _for_ her? Huh? What would she say if she knew you were making decisions for her?" he challenged—that just made me more fucking pissed off.

"Don't fucking come near her," I barked, causing him to flinch slightly.

He didn't back down, though.

He held the elevator doors open far enough to keep this tirade going.

"You may think you know what's best for her, but what if you don't? What if coming to Chicago was the worst possible mistake of her life?" he argued.

"Worst mistake of her life?" I repeated, eyebrows raised.

I couldn't help but consider this; an alternative before she was dragged into this pit of despair she had gotten involved in.

"What would she have done back in Forks? Once Charlie was gone? What would she do?" I retorted.

"I could have worked it out—she was upset and she wanted to run away. She-made-a-_mistake!_" he hissed.

I ground my teeth together.

"You only think she made a mistake because she left you behind."

I got a genuine reaction out of him then, he struck out at me. I grabbed his arm that missed my face, wrenching him closer and pulling it behind his back, pushing him into the wall next to one of Bella's neighbour's front doors.

"I'm right and you know it. Maybe it was a mistake—maybe you're right," I hated to say it.

"But she was lost in Forks—she only would have gotten worse. There was nothing you could have done to help her and if you were the better choice, you would have followed her like nothing else mattered." I grumbled next to his ear.

"And you also would have realised she needed to leave, she needed to do it for herself. It would have been selfish of you to make her stay."

He had been struggling against my restraining hands, but his arms slackened and he leaned his forehead against the wall in defeat.

"She never told me about Phil," he whispered.

I let him go as if his skin was like acid to touch; like he had burned me. His sorrow was hard to watch. It's because we had it in common. We both mourned the girl Bella used to be, what she must have been like before Phil, and then before Charlie died and she was broken.

He straightened up slowly, keeping his eyes on his shoes.

"I'm not going to give up, though. She needs closure, and so does Renee—I'm not defending what she did," he added quickly in response to my expression of contempt.

He sighed, long and shaky. Our brief encounter was enough to last me a lifetime—I didn't want to see him again after that, but it was an inevitability, especially if he loved Bella.

I knew he did.

Swallowing the bile rising in my throat, I cracked my knuckles, staring after Jacob as he retreated back to the lift, avoiding my gaze.

I blew a deep breath out through my still-clenched teeth, rolling my head around my shoulders to stretch the muscles in my neck.

His presence made me uneasy, or maybe it was the very nagging fact that I hadn't found Bella yet.

I sauntered back up the hall towards her apartment, my eye catching something on the floor.

I stopped outside Bella's neighbour's door, the one directly next to her apartment. I picked up a sock from the floor—someone must have dropped it on their way to do washing or something. I cleared my throat, hoping they at least had clothes on.

I knocked once, then twice, and waited.

* * *

I spat in his face; struggling against the duct tape that tied me tightly to a hard, wooden dining chair.

"Get away from me, you filthy fuck!" I growled, but his hand slapped brutally against my face once more.

Distressed, bleeding and disoriented, I began to cry.

James and Kate glowered down at me from their positions before my chair. They both had the same eyes—brother and sister. James cocked his head to the side curiously, maliciously as I breathed hard through my mouth, pretty certain that my nose was broken.

James' fist was evidence.

I had had worse, but I also had to face the fact that it wouldn't be a fact for much longer. He was going to ruin me.

"I should just plough your face...until you're unrecognisable..." he chuckled, his eyes full of a sick pleasure.

They shifted to anger and hurt.

"I _loved_ you, Bella," he accused, his brow furrowing.

Kate rolled her eyes at her brother, her hands on her hips, sheathed tightly in jeans.

I was sat in my interrogation chair in the middle of the living room. We should have been in a dusty abandoned warehouse with a scabby light hanging from the ceiling while they performed electro-shock on me. I felt like I was involved in some mob business.

Kate looked more severe looking than at first glance—her sharp features contrasted against her brother's, although I assumed he was older. She was wearing makeup and a red blouse that stood out against her corn-silk hair.

James still had the marks on his face, reminiscent of his confrontation with Edward. My stomach and chest clenched simultaneously, in a painful bid to extract themselves from my body, or at least protect themselves from the damage already being inflicted.

I gasped for breath when his hand found my face again, the other cheek this time with the back of his right hand.

"When is he going to realise you're here? Will he at all?" He taunted, a smile back on his face.

"He might not, you know—we could be here for days." He grinned and I choked on a sob strangling me at the back of my throat.

I watched a very deranged, tortured being through those harsh eyes. He may have been curable once, but he was beyond help now—not that I would want to help him.

He had put Edward's life in danger in the past, by default, I hated him, hated his name—his mere memory and presence. I hated the mark he left on Edward, the mark he left on me, and whatever mark he would be leaving now, if I lived long enough.

"Why didn't you love me back?" he asked, although I don't think he expected an answer.

He knelt down by my chair and stroked my hair, a distinct difference to the way he had just been touching me. I shuddered in disgust and felt I would much rather him hitting me.

Instead of that, he pressed his thumb into my sore side and I gritted my teeth against the wail of pain it ensued.

"That's where she got you..." he murmured.

My eyes were on Kate, begging.

She just stared at me, pitying but mostly indifferent.

My stomach was in tight knots with his proximity and the memories he was eliciting about that night—the pain, the fear. And it was happening again. So unbelievable. I was shaking and my shirt was wet—wet with tears and blood. It ran from my busted lip and broken nose, down my chin and neck. Hot, sticky and metallic.

I couldn't smell it, though. Not anymore.

I feared for myself, but not any more than I feared for Edward—what he would do, what might happen to him.

"We'll just have to wait for him, see if he works it out..." he mumbled.

He was definitely insane, muttering to himself, staring off into space, tangled sentences and meanings—he had lost his mind. He was even more dangerous than before.

"He'll be able to watch everything be taken from him," his voice got higher, stronger and more angry.

"Just like he took them from me."

"You did the wrong thing," I choked out, my head leaning forward, chin to chest.

"He ruined me!" he snarled into my ear.

I looked up. Kate had a haunting painting placed above her couch on the opposite wall, the one I was facing. It showed a white dove—the symbol of peace—covered in blood, a disturbing statement against authority or something? Or an objection to peace?

"Like it do you?" she sneered, noticing my fixation.

I didn't say anything.

"There needs to be chaos in the world—otherwise it doesn't function. That's what it means." She threw the roll of duct tape to James and he caught it mid-air.

He tore a thick strip off and I tried moving my face away as he moved to paste it over my mouth.

"Stop. Moving." He threatened, grabbing my chin and pressing his lips to mine, sighing.

"We could have had so much more, Bella..." he planted the tape over my mouth to keep me from screaming.

Kate came forward, brandishing a small wash cloth and a syringe.

The syringe looked like heroin—were they going to give me an overdose? Squirming and moaning against the pain it caused, I tried to struggle out my binds, knowing it was helpless, but trying anyway because trying was all I had left. I didn't have strength and I didn't have a plan—no help.

I thought of Edward and found my motivation, but the searing stab of a deep puncture wound made me cry out, my sobs muffled by the tape. Blurred vision kept me from seeing everything properly.

Before his thumb pressed down on the plunger, both blonde siblings started at the sounds of someone knocking on their door.

I blinked, my crying ceased, and I wished I hadn't made a peep.


	23. The War & Epilogue: Clear and Bright

_And Alas, I am afraid Blood Moon has come to an end. :')_

_This story has been going on for ages, it feels like. I wanted to say a collective hoorah for all of my loyal readers and thanking you for keeping up for so long and giving me kind words of encouragement for this story. _

_But it was time to end this story, I didn't expect this for at least another chapter but this is where my writing led me. _

_So, I hope you don't hate me too much to read and review. I hope you enjoy the ending and got what you hoped for. I definitely had to end the story this way. Couldn't see it ending any other way. I hope I haven't disappointed all yall._

_I'm going to miss the sordid lemons coming from these two. E and B have done a lot of growing up I think. B is still the crass little weirdo she's always been but you know...oh well. I like her that way*sniffles*_

_I'm sounding all senitmental and it's pissing me off. I like to curse. I guess I'll go back to that in Indecent Affairs II._

_I have to update that next. LOVE YOU GUYS TO THE BONE!  
_

* * *

James and Kate glanced at each other expectantly.

"Go answer it! It's _your_ house." James hissed at his sister who rolled her eyes again and loped towards the door.

He had his hand poised over the syringe, paused in the act of injecting me with something foul. I had been drunk plenty of times in my life, but never had I been high—and I didn't want to start that now.

I tried wriggling my arm to get the needle to fall out, afraid of my captors noticing.

Blood beaded at the wound as I shook my arm, as much as I could whilst under my restraints.

The sharp, metal tip fell from the crease in my up-turned forearm. James was still fixed on the door, as was I—I couldn't imagine Kate was sane enough herself to have any company.

I just prayed I could escape before Edward found us—I shuddered to think of what might occur. He was irrational when he was angry, as was I. And I couldn't help but picture him killing James, without remorse or hesitation. But that wasn't the thing that scared the shit out of me.

Edward might get distracted by me, just for being here—he could get hurt. What frightened me more; the image I could conjure up in my mind that sent chills up my spine like tiny pin pricks, was the image of Edward, still, pale and _gone_.

So quickly, the tables could turn and it would mean the end.

Triumphant, I tried harder to struggle from the duct tape binding my limbs together—attempting to work inconspicuously until I heard a voice, casual, but edged with concern. Kate was standing with the door open a fraction, only enough so that her entire body could block the view inside her apartment.

"I think you may have dropped this outside," I heard Edward's voice say kindly.

I gasped.

Kate clicked her fingers behind the door and James stood off to the side, out of sight but in range to attack.

"Would you...like to come in?" she offered in a sultry voice.

I sobbed against my gag, choking, silently begging him not to come inside.

I could deal with this by my fucking self. He didn't need to be involved, didn't need to get hurt. I thrashed around in my chair which threw me off balance. I crashed into the floorboards, cushioned by a thick rug atop it, which was now dotted grotesquely with my own blood.

"What was that?" Edward asked suspiciously.

"Uh, nothing—please, come inside." She offered.

Her voice was icy and sinister—Edward should have noticed that. From my vantage point, I could see all their feet from under the coffee table, except Edward's, he still remained just outside.

I wanted Edward with me, beside me—but I didn't want him to get hurt.

Could I even imagine an outcome with him getting hurt or killed just to save me? Save _me?_ Bella Swan—the stripper from Blood Moon, the cold, work-a-holic, stony, distant _bitch_. The Stone Queen.

I swallowed the giant lump in my throat but found it difficult as my mouth tasted of blood and I couldn't spit it out. I tried licking around my lips to remove the tape from my face. The midday sun shone unrelenting through the tall, floor-to-ceiling windows, a replica of the ones in my own apartment. It burned in my tear-filled eyes—the dust that had accumulated in the fluffy white rag made my nose itchy.

I fought the urge to sneeze, to keep myself hidden, but it was too late.

"Yeah..." Edward said reluctantly.

"Sure." He muttered, sighing in resignation.

I saw his shoes, black and scuffed, standing in stark contrast to the pale floors, clean and unscratched.

He took a few tentative steps inside, his feet aligning with James'. I let out the loudest scream I could muster, muffled slightly through the duct tape over my lips. I sobbed hard and desperate as Edward's feet froze in place. Kate's heels advanced from behind him, the same moment James' did.

He wheeled at the last minute, shoving Kate backwards into the now closed door.

He had realised he just walked in on a game.

An unwinnable game.

Watching the scuffle unfold from my vulnerable position on the floor, unable to move, I was halfway between hysterics and boiling anger.

Unbridled rage and fear seared through my skull like a hot poker.

I could feel it burning through my eyes, my skin, my blood.

"Where is she?!" Edward roared.

Kate's red heels struggled to regain their stance before stalking back again. James's scruffy trainers circled around Edward, stomping and sliding as their concealed torsos battled.

A seething rage burned in my veins, a loathe like the tongues of a fire, licking it's way through my system.

Fear like the stabbing pain of a thousand knives stole it's way into the pit of my stomach.

Again.

I rubbed my face against the coarse rug, the edges peeling away from my skin. I managed to get it half-way off.

"Edward!" I shrieked as they continued to fight.

I heard growling, roaring, cursing. Kate moved, around the sofa until I could see her contorted features; manic.

"No, no!" I screamed as she grabbed my arm, pulling me up into a warped sitting position.

"Get your hands off of her!" Edward snarled; I heard him grunt as James landed another blow to his abdomen, shoving him harshly.

He drove, face-first into the ground, sliding enough so I could catch a glimpse of him and his already battered form.

It drove a stake through my heart.

"Bella." He whispered; that twisted the stake, driving it deeper so all I could feel was pain.

I couldn't have another Charlie; not another death hanging over my head.

I leaned forward, kicking one of my legs out that was folded beneath me and catching Kate's shin in my course.

She gasped and spat a few choice words in my direction, grabbing another chunk of my hair and yanking me to my feet. She wrapped a finely manicured hand around my throat, her nails digging into my skin but not using enough pressure to actually block my airway.

She was waiting for an order.

I watched helplessly as Edward fought for me, battling my war without my help.

But it was also partially his war; just like any other war he faced.

No matter how detached he tried to be, it remained a personal conflict. Between the three of us, it had always been personal.

But in war; is it _not_ always that way? How could one fight for a cause they didn't hold close to their heart. I fought for Edward and he fought for me. James fought for what he thought he loved or wanted; he fought to try and get me when he desired my attention. But my rejection and his past with Edward, catapulted him into an insane vendetta to gain happiness through inflicting pain.

Compared to a real war, this didn't seem too different.

Who's to say it wasn't the same thing.

Wrenching my wrists apart, I managed to loosen the tape, ripping one of my hands free. Kate struggled to grasp my flailing arm but was too late and caught an elbow in her ribs, leaving her winded and bent at the waist.

I ran forward—this needed to end.

"Get off him! He's done nothing to you! STOP!" I screamed, although what I said wasn't entirely true, everything Edward _had_ done to James was entirely justifiable.

"Stay back!" Edward growled at me, wrestling James to the floor.

He pushed his shoulder and turned him around, kicking the backs of his knees so he lost his footing. With his knee stamped sharply between James' shoulder blades, he grasped his arms at the elbows and tugged them back, a painful restraint.

"Get out of here, Bella! Call the cops! Just go!" he ordered desperately.

"I'm not leaving you!" I cried, stepping towards their scuffle.

"I've been through almost losing you before! Don't do this to me again!" he yelled, his voice on the edge of hysteria.

Crying, I didn't move.

"I'm not going to be the one who runs," I said strongly, my voice thick with emotion.

"She's right," James grumbled, his face mashed into the floor with Edward's hand.

"Shut up!" he barked, pressing James' head harder while using all of his weight to pin him on his stomach.

"Bella, don't fight me on this, please!" he begged, his eyes burning into mine, a tribute to his heated panic.

"You-bitch!" Kate coughed, stumbling after me.

I spun on my heel in time for her nails to rake across my cheek. Screaming ensued from my throat, my cheek stinging painfully. I ducked out of the way from her second attempt at ripping my face apart, grabbing her hair and jerking her head back—the same way she had done to me.

"Don't you hurt her!" Edward snarled and I heard James' grunt in objection, probably trying to removed Edward from his perch.

"It's too late Cullen—watch while my sister gets a piece of your girl." James chuckled darkly behind me as Kate's fingers dug into my side.

She twisted around in my grasp, turning to face me. She shoved me and I fell backwards, sliding on droplets of blood. I crawled backwards as Kate advanced and Edward scuffled to keep his hold on James but protect me from Kate, too.

"Stay back!" I shrieked at Edward, but never removing my gaze from Kate's.

A severe smirk coloured her face and I felt every ounce of warmth leave my body.

"I can handle this, myself." I said, although I knew that wasn't true, he probably did, too—he was already trying to stand up, but James was the one restraining him now.

Kate must have realised I wasn't equipped to deal with this, not when I was already injured.

"You hurt my brother, you little tramp—how can you live with yourself? Just a common whore, worthless. Who but this low-life over here," she gestured to Edward who growled menacingly in response, "will miss you when you're gone?" she taunted, her smile widening when I didn't have an answer.

"I feel sorry for _you_." I turned it back on her.

"You don't have anything in your life but you're brother. Let me guess, he never even contacted you before now, did he?" I challenged, grasping at straws.

Whatever outlet of mistrust I could use to divide their unity was what I had to take.

Severe ties; sew doubt.

Kate flinched, cocking her head to the side—her eyes glazed for a moment.

"She's only jealous!" James yelled.

"I said shut up!" Edward shouted.

"She's trying to make you doubt me, Katie! Don't listen to the little slut!"

I was backed against the wall, literally. My hands groped behind me for something, anything. A weapon to protect myself.

I encountered a crystal vase that had been sitting atop the coffee table that was pushed against the wall to make room for my chair in the middle of the living area.

I tried to remain inconspicuous and maintain eye-contact with Kate while I subtly reached for my ticket of escape.

"Don't tell me you knew he's gotten people killed in the past, by his own pure stupidity? Are you really going to help a murderer?" I asked, my tone shaken and wavering with each ragged breath I took.

Kate stayed passive, her slow steps inching closer to me.

If I didn't act soon, she'd be on top of me. I was breathless and sore. I was so tired and I knew that if it came down to the both of us now, she would definitely over-power me.

"What was your plan after we were dead? Did he tell you anything? Was he going to help you hide everything or was he going to run and leave you to deal with the consequences?"

Kate's eyes tightened and her mouth flattened into a hard line.

I was hitting a nerve, threading suspicion into her brain.

"Is he really worth it?" I muttered, my fingers encountering the lip of the vase.

Edward slammed James' head into the floor again, the sound must have sobered Kate because she leapt at me. At the same time, Edward heaved himself from the ground and hurled his body towards us just as I raised the ornate fixture in my hand.

I had it at shoulder level before she wrapped both her hands around my throat, tears in her eyes.

"He's my only family!" she sobbed, her mascara running in thick black lines down her porcelain cheeks.

Her face and neck were flushed and for a moment I felt a swell of pity for the woman who was dragged into this homicidal scheme through a brother who promised her love and care because she could find it nowhere else.

Edward grabbed her from behind and she let go immediately. Her hands were replaced with Edward's soothing ones. Kate stumbled off to the side, weeping and sniffling in despair before sliding down the wall and heaping onto the floor.

"You had her!" James roared.

"And you let her go! You're pathetic! No wonder you have no family!" he spat cruelly.

Kate cowered into her palms as James made his own advance on us. Edward stood in front of me, when I wanted to be beside him. But he wouldn't have it.

Edward bounded into James, tackling him rugby-style at the waist. I ran, too, my hand still grasping the benign vase.

Clutching my chest in ongoing fright, I tried to help Edward, but if I tried aiming the heavy object at James, I could hit _him._

There was no telling what damage I could achieve.

Before I could do anything, however, James rolled them over, and Edward, onto his back, leaving him vulnerable.

He jumped towards me and I sprinted towards the sofa, leaping onto the cushions and over the backrest to the other side. His hand caught my ankle mid-air and I choked out a shriek. Edward was yelling curses as James' toppled over the couch, falling on top of me. He knocked the air from my lungs and kept me from taking another breath. Disoriented and nauseated, I tried in vain to push him off as he crushed his forearm to my throat. The sun was blinding me and it could have been so easy to let it happen.

But the part of me that refused to fail, the part of me that had kept me alive throughout my tormented life came to the fore.

I thrust my knee up into his groin, rolling us over in the same move he used with Edward. I struggled to my knees when he tried to reach for my hair, matted with blood.

"Get away from her!" Edward snarled from across the room, stalking towards us.

I stood up at the same time he did, Edward came behind me, furious, but not fast enough to prevent what happened next.

James grabbed my shoulder roughly, pulling me to him.

The commotion must have caused quite a disruption on our floor. I could hear irate voices and banging on Kate's door. Angry neighbours.

But I didn't have time to worry about that. I shoved James, hard.

I rammed my fist into his throat as he fumbled to get his hold on me again. I pushed once more, not noticing until the last minute, what would happen if he fell.

Sucking in a horrified breath, James fell.

The window behind him shattered and it was all I could do not to scream again.

Edward and I skidded on our knees to the edge where James still held on, his hands bloodied with the shards of glass still stuck in the frame.

Instinctively, I grasped his forearm.

But I was too late...and much too weak.

He screamed and I couldn't watch—I couldn't see what good it would do. I wasn't going to lavish in the fact that I had killed someone, but it didn't keep me from feeling glad he was dead.

I know what I had done, and I'd live with it; better to have a black mark in your memory than to have a half-life with anxiety at every corner.

Edward's hand wrapped safely around mine and I breathed out again.

"Bella," he sighed, relief caressing his tone.

The wind whipped around my face and hair...and the world was silent.

* * *

**_Epilogue:_**

_When I was younger I saw_

_My Daddy cry, and curse at the wind_

_He broke his own heart and I watched_

_As he tried to reassemble it_

_My Momma swore that she would, never let herself forget_

_That was the day that I promised, I'd never sing of love, if it does not exist._

_Darlin'...You are the only exception._

_The Only Exception- Paramore  
_

**_

* * *

  
_**

I shivered in my coat, shoving my gloved hands in my pockets as I strolled through the densely wooded area, my breath came out in puffs of steam in the icy air.

I felt my nose and cheeks prickle with a numbed sensation. Strands of unruly hair escaped my beanie and stroked carelessly across my face.

I sighed in delight and nostalgia as I patted a giant Fir tree with a tender palm.

I closed my eyes at the smells that surrounded me, filling my nose and senses with a cool remembrance that never failed to arouse every memory of this place.

I found a mossy log to sit down on and take inventory of the years I had missed being here.

With a flushed face and tearful eyes, I verbalised my apology to the beloved Forks forest.

"I'm sorry I haven't been to visit." I whispered solemnly, noticing how much of a girl I was being then remembering that I _was_ so it kind of didn't matter.

Wiping at my eyes, I scoffed.

"I'm such a fucking pussy." I muttered, but the grin stayed glued to my mouth, where it would always remain.

Tears of happiness, and no more of sorrow.

I craned my neck to stare up at the green canopy standing what looked like miles above me—the closest place to heaven.

It was almost nightfall and I would have to get home soon—I had people that would worry about where I am.

I shook my head at myself but fished around in my pocket for what I came here to do. My fingers curled around it—my engraved locket.

_I was running late one day, to work. I had my hands full and my handbag overflowing with everything. I tripped on my impossibly high mother fucking pumps and went ass over tit, scraping my knees on the blacktop of the Blood Moon parking lot. Newbie came to help me, an overtly smug expression on his gorgeous face. He plucked my locket from the ground and ran his thumb over the silver heart, engraved with my name; a present from Charlie. I grabbed it back from him; thinking he could never understand the preciousness._

As I stood here now, I knew that it was time to put it in it's rightful place. Pulling one glove off, I bent down and fingered the damp, loose soil I stood on. I scooped a handful out before dropping the locket inside, smiling. I sprinkled the dirt over the shiny metal, the reflective surface winked at me, a last goodbye before it disappeared under the Earth. Dusting my hands off, I replaced my glove and turned back to the trail in the direction of the Volvo—the number plate read: STONEQUEEN.

I shook off the dew and ice from my parka, hooking it at the door on my way inside the house.

"I'm home!" I called out cheerfully.

There was a hearty aroma escaping from the kitchen and I knew Edward was cooking something to make me feel better, considering what kind of day it was.

"Mmm, something smells fucking wonderful." I hummed, breathing in as I encountered a kitchen bench full of plates, bowls and dirty chopping boards.

I smiled fondly at Edward, his hands covered in flour and his shirt spotted with sauce.

"Hey," he grinned adoringly.

I heard footsteps down the hallway and laughed.

Edward held his arms wide for a hug but I shook my head with a scrunched nose.

"You're dirty, newbie. No way." I protested but got a hugged anyway.

He chuckled into my hair, pawing his dusty hands over my back and groping my ass. I laughed, too, slapping his chest and kissing him fully on the mouth. He smacked his lips against my neck, tickling me.

Giggling, I kissed him again, running my fingers through his hair in total abandon.

"Ew!" a high voice squealed.

Edward and I broke apart in feigned astonishment.

"Did you hear something?" I whispered conspicuously to Edward who shook his head, frowning.

I couldn't help the grin that tugged at the corners of my mouth as Chuck trotted over to our embrace and tried to wedge his way into the hug.

"I'm here, Mommy!" he complained, nudging my waist with his head.

His thick black hair sticking out at odd angles—he reminded me so much of his grandfather.

I took a step back and he laughed with triumph, wriggling himself between Edward and I. He wrapped his arms around my waist, his head only just passing my bellybutton. He was getting too big already.

I ruffled his hair.

"How was your day, baby?" I cooed.

Fucking sue me, I was unable to help being softie with him.

Edward still had his arms around my shoulders, smiling down at our son.

Chuck looked up at me with his blazing green eyes, a trait he shared with his father—I was grateful.

"Auntie Esme helped me play legos," he murmured into my stomach.

"And she was giving me tips on how to get a girlfriend." His face reddened at this and Edward and I shared an amused glance.

"I'm sure there are plenty of five year olds who would love to marry you." I assured him.

"Auntie Esme said I could just be a man-whore like Daddy," he said and I let a laugh burst between my lips.

Edward looked incredulous.

"What's a man-whore?" he asked innocently.

"Uh," I began.

"It means you're smart... Just smart." Edward provided.

Chuck looked up at him in wonder and speculation. I wrapped my arms tighter around Edward and squeezed him between us, groaning and laughing until Chuck made an escape, tearing down the hallway and back to his bedroom.

"I'm gonna be the _bestest_ man-whore when I'm big!" He cried, disappearing.

"Haha...man whore." I mused, shaking my head.

Auntie Esme would have to go easy on the pre-breakfast margaritas if she was ever going to baby-sit Chuck and Alice ever agin.

Edward turned back to the stove, stirring a huge pasta pot and blowing on a spoonful for me to try.

The phone rang then and Alice with her light brown hair bounced out into the kitchen, tugging on my jeans while Chuck raced to grab the phone from the cradle.

"Whoisthis?" he answered breathlessly.

He'd need to learn the proper etiquette.

"Mom!" he yelled.

"It's for yo-u!" he dragged out the 'you'.

I grabbed Alice and hitched her on my hip and huffed.

"You're getting big for a two year old." I muttered and she tugged on my hair with a grin, green eyes sparkling.

Edward obviously had the dominant gene when it came to eye colour.

Rolling my eyes I walked into the living room, leaving Edward at his own devices in the kitchen, hell, he knew better than I did.

"Hello?" I asked into the receiver, laughing at Chuck as he tried to do a somersault off the couch.

"Bella, it's Mom. How are you?" I smiled.

"I'm fine." I sighed.

"I thought you weren't going to call."

"I know what day it is, Bella. I couldn't not call—not after what...we've been through. I'm sending Alice and Chuck some things through the mail. I wish you didn't live all the way back in Forks again!"

I just rolled my eyes.

"I guess you are your father's daughter."

"I like the isolation from retards, or in other words, the general public." I explained casually.

She laughed.

"Touche, maybe I should move there."

I laughed and prayed silently she wasn't being serious.

"Thanks for calling, Mom." I said and once it was out of my mouth, I knew I actually meant it.

I was appreciative. I knew she still cared and loved me. It had taken strength, on both ends, for our relationship to rejoin, but we made it happen.

A lot of the credit should go to Jacob, though. He was determined to fix our estrangement.

I was happy now, I could talk to my Mother, I had another confidant.

Although we weren't entirely out of the woods with our past, I was able to talk to her now. That was better than loathing each other from afar.

"I'll let you get back to it, then. It must be dinner time for you guys."

I nodded although she couldn't see me; I dodged a pillow from Chuck and threw it back at him.

"I'll talk to you soon, Mom."

"Okay. I love you."

"Love you, too."

I went to bed after settling Chuck and Alice into bed for the night, hoping they wouldn't wake up at the ass crack of dawn but knowing they most definitely would. Because they're kids, they're little shits, but they're brilliant.

I gave them both a kiss on the cheek before collapsing into bed with my clothes half-hanging off my body.

Edward laughed when he came in.

"Tired?" He asked.

I grunted a response but was playfully aroused as he started to gently remove my clothing.

I bit my lip against the guttural moan that was building in my chest. Edward pulled my jeans down my legs, followed by my panties.

His face came into focus above mine. I cradled him in my hands, licking my lips. He grinned, his eyes crinkling tenderly. I stroked a finger over his stubble, and over his cheeks to his forehead.

I noticed the tiniest shade of grey appearing at the edge of his temples.

I found it kind of hot. He was a fucking DILF now.

An experienced, sexy, domestic, Dad.

I moaned as he lowered his lips to my ear.

"I love you." He murmured.

I ran my hand through his hair then down to the nape of his neck, pulling his mouth to mine and mumbling against his lips.

"I love you, too."

His body was flush against mine, heated and ready—like take out.

But the only calories I gained with Edward was swallowing...

Shaking my head, I pulled my shirt up and over my head, unclasping my bra and discarding it. Edward's hands cupped my breasts, his lips moving in lines down my chest and neck before taking a taut nipple in his mouth.

"You never lose your edge," I gasped.

"You never fail to respond to me." He breathed against my navel.

I shuddered and I could sense his smug grin, the bastard.

I squeezed my thighs together, keeping him out.

He tried to pull them apart gently but I shook my head.

"Restricted access, Newbie."

"But I have a hall-pass." He said in all seriousness.

"Oh, well, okay then..."

I let my knees fall apart as he knelt between them. He stroked his index finger up my slit, circling my sweetest spot before nudging my clit and sending me into a twitching frenzy.

"Ugh, cockwad!" I teased.

"Bitch," he muttered.

"Queer." I retorted, laughing at our game of insults.

"Stone Queen."

"You got me," I sighed and laughed.

And then we both let out a satisfied groan as he entered me, gradually, until he was filling me completely.

I breathed deeply, noting the flush of my skin, the accelerated beat of my heart and the sweat dewing on my forehead—all the same reactions from the first time we had sex.

It couldn't get any better.

I tried hard to muffle my screams of ecstasy as Edward pushed inside of me again and again. He had to cup his hand over my mouth.

I arched my back off of the bed, my hips meeting his with each thrust.

"Oh, Edward!" I gasped, nearing the edge.

He pulled out with a wicked grin.

I glared.

He took my ankle and propped it up onto his shoulder before pounding into me with an intense fervour that left me shaking and shrieking from the assault of pleasure.

I groaned, moaned and whimpered as I came, my pussy clenching tightly around Edward's stone shaft. He growled incomprehensibly, emptying himself inside of me in a burst of heat.

He collapsed onto the bed beside me, sweaty and spent. He curled his arm around my waist and spent the next few minutes catching his breath.

He planted a kiss at the corner of my mouth then reached for my hand, bringing it up to his mouth and kissing the wedding band and diamond ring on my finger.

I smiled contentedly, humming at the lasting sensation of Edward...

We were quiet and relaxed for a few moments.

"Ten years." I murmured into the darkness.

"Ten years today...since he's been gone." Edward stroked my cheek softly.

"What do you miss most about him?" he breathed into my ear.

I contemplated.

"What do I miss most..."

I bit my lip and then smiled, unable to keep a tear from sliding a trail from the corner of my eye.

"Just eating breakfast with him." I murmured.

Edward pressed his mouth to my shoulder blade, I could feel him smile against my skin.

I played with his fingers.

"He would always read the funnies—that was his escape from work: The cartoons in a news paper." I shook my head.

"Esme might have told you, but I'd buy the paper for that reason only. I'd cut out the comic strips and keep them, then throw the rest of it away," I chuckled at my silliness.

"I wonder what he'd say to me now..." I whispered, my eyes stinging.

"I don't know your old man..." Edward began.

"But from what you tell me, he's a smart man—and I know that he'd say you'd done a beautiful job."

I rolled around to face him and we cocooned ourselves, legs tangles and breathing rhythmic. I glanced out of the window Edward had his back to. The full moon was out...clear and bright...not a tinge of red in sight.

* * *

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" Alice was squealing into my ear.

I groaned and pulled a pillow over my face but she hastily snatched it away and continued to sing her request for me to awake.

I got ready for work and simultaneously played with the kids.

Edward was taking Chuck and Alice to Esme's house again. She had a holiday apartment up in Port Angeles for when she wanted to visit me and she was up here for this week in particular. She had opened another club in Seattle and relocated there. Business was booming and from what I heard, she had found a man.

He lived in Seattle, and was a highly respectable surgeon—Carlisle, his name was.

I packed my dancing shoes, my tights and my top into my ancient duffle bag. It was ragged and holey, but I liked it—it had character. Edward and I had just opened a family restaurant in Port Angeles, he had opted out of staying a body guard, saying he was already acting as the family's body guard and that was enough—secretly I think he couldn't be motivated because we didn't work together anymore and then there was the fact that there was hardly any work to get around here in that profession.

But tourism was popular revenue for the seaside town, especially around the Spring when the drive up there was a beautiful trip.

Edward took care of the business and I worked full time as a dance teacher at Mimi's Performing Arts school, a few blocks down from the restaurant. I wasn't a professional, well known, famous dancer.

But I decided it wasn't what I wanted to be. Teaching people skills they wouldn't otherwise learn gave me undeniable pleasure. And then I had a family.

People who cared, people who loved me.

I stood up and slung my bag over my shoulder. My eyes encountered the picture of Charlie that sat on the mantle above the fireplace.

I sighed, resting my forearm against the granite.

I stared into the eyes of my father, his brown eyes stared back.

The lit candles that sat either side of it flickered with my slight movements; I picked the silver frame up in my hands and kissed it, placing it back and running out the door before I was late for work.

_You could find yourself alone or you could be surrounded by everyone you love, either way the thought was staggering. I was lucky enough to receive the latter._


End file.
